


Shit, Let's Rock the Heist

by Karcutie



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bombs, Dirk is an asshole, English/Crockers are a Mafia Family, Heists, I just really like phantom thieves okay, Injury, M/M, Mafia AU, Past Injury, Phantom Thief AU, Riddles, Rough Sparring, Strilondes are Phantom Thieves, Underage Drinking, future abuse mention, future torture mention, gratuitous fake art history, non-binary roxy, plot heavy, this fic gets kind of dark so strap in, trans June
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24749140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karcutie/pseuds/Karcutie
Summary: Dave Strider likes his job. Sneaking around in the shadows, hoodwinking mafia goons, teasing the really cute security manager, it’s a sweet deal. Everybody loves a good heist. Excluding, of course, the people you’re stealing from. And their guns, which can make Dave’s job a lot less fun. How many times can he flirt with death before it blows up in his face?
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 37
Kudos: 105





	1. A Demon Necklace is What Makes a Woman, a Woman

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been such a long time coming. I've always wanted there to be more phantom thief AU's, since the genre is kind of an obsession of mine. I couldn't ever find any, so here I am. Being the change that I want to see in the world.
> 
> This fic is gearing up to be the longest thing I've ever written, so please buckle your seat belts. Just know that it's going to contain a lot of heists, Strider angst, and reckless decision making. But mostly heists. I love writing heists.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta reader [Gummie88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gummie88/pseuds/Gummie88)! Without your help, I sound like a fool and a half.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

TT: I feel as though I have let this concern lie in the back of my mind for far too long.  
TT: Though the timing might not be ideal, please help me understand...  
TG: rose what  
TT: About the cape.

Dave Strider knelt soundlessly on the black marble floor. He had about a few yards of ground space where the security camera's rotation couldn't see. Roxy only had to knock out one of them in order to give him this precious space. He unclipped his knapsack from where it was perched high on his shoulders and retrieved a plastic box and a bundle of wires. He figured this plant was leafy enough to conceal one of the charges.

TT: I can't help but think that perhaps you favor the look because of a personal fascination with certain fictional properties.  
TT: I'd like to clarify, just to make certain that every person on this line is on the same page, that spy movies are, quote, 'fake as shit'.  
TG: whats this about come on  
TG: im kinda busy here i dont have the brainspace to entertain your flighty bushbeating

His eyes flick over the screen of his shades briefly, the screen tracking his eyes movements as he typed out a short response. Then he got to work folding out the compact black plastic. The device was pretty simple, just a packet of some deadly chemistry Dirk cooked up, some scotch lock wire connectors, a bolt for the ground wire, and a transmission receiver. Dave quietly folded everything into place and spooled the wire out. Dirk was right that it made everything more compacted, but it sucked that he had to pause to assemble the charge. Though he could probably go through the motions of activating it in his damn sleep with how many times his brother made him assemble it. Just another measure to make extra sure that he wouldn't hesitate in a critical moment. 

TT: Do you think the cape makes you a superhero, Dave?  
TT: If so, why do you think you've grown so attached to it, despite the blatant impracticality of the garment?  
TG: oh my god  
TG: it just looks cool  
TG: not everything needs to be complicated

Self-consciously, Dave tugged at the shawl around his shoulders. He'd taken a long time to carefully tuck his hair away and make sure that the hood, face mask, and shades obscured his face as much as possible. He wasn't about to just slap on a ski mask and call it a day. If someone was going to catch glimpses of him in the shadows, he wanted to at least look a little cool. 

No, professional. Professional was definitely the word he was looking for.

TG: hes right though the cape does look pretty bomb  
TT: 5 o' clock, Dave.

Dave whipped his head around. The low glow of a flashlight beam was easy to spot instantly as it flickered over the reflective walls. The speckled marble was polished and lacquered so much that it almost glowed, which was good news for thieves trying to keep a look out for night shift guards.

Moving quickly, Dave placed the unfinished charge into the soil for the plant, and grabbed his bag, hugging it tightly to his chest while his brother typed. Dirk was the fastest with the hands-free shades, and the orange test scrolled across the screen at a breakneck pace.

TG: shit wheres he going  
TT: The route takes him down the B12 hallway next.  
TT: Get into the alcove behind the modern art where you just came from and stay there for about...  
TT: A minute and then some.

Following the suggestion, Dave backpedaled quickly, keeping his eyes on the waving beam of light. His shoes were thin and soundless on the marble, and even as he stumbled into the small space between a long cabinet and an ornate sculpture, they didn't make so much as a squeak. Dave pressed his knees against his chest and held his breath.

He typed out a quick message to Dirk.

TG: damn, the shoes work great  
TT: Obviously.

From this angle, Dave couldn't see, but he could hear. As opposed to his own, the guard's footsteps were downright thunderous. It reminded him of the terrible acoustics in this place. Just another reason why the environment was working against him.

The place was made almost entirely of black and white marble, it was sparsely decorated, with an open floor plan. A cat burglar's nightmare. Along with the usual danger of being discovered that came with the job, Dave really didn't feel safe in the Crocker Mansion. It gave off an awfully cold vibe, and not just because the polished marble cooled the room like an icebox. The place was utterly devoid of life, and looked more like a museum than a place where several people lived together. The purposeful lack of comfort items like pillows and blankets, along with the sharp metal modern art sprinkled here and there seemed to be a conscious effort to sap as much warmth from the place as possible.

Dave's knees pressed into the sharp metal of the sculpture in front of him and he sent a silent prayer that he would never have to sneak into the Crocker Mansion ever again.

He didn't breathe out until well after the footsteps faded and the beam from the flashlight was no longer visible.  
He still didn't move until the orange text blinked into his vision.

TT: All clear.

Dave sighed into his mask and dislodged himself from the little niche, careful to not jostle the pack he kept pressed to his sternum too much. He half-jogged back over to the plant on the balls of his feet and resumed his position, twisting the wires with more urgency, now that he was a little behind schedule.

TG: whats your problem with my cape anyway its practical and sexy rolled into one sleek package  
TG: i look cool as shit and thats all there is to say on the matter  
TG: rosie if youre jealous we can get you a cape too ;)  
TT: I find my shawl quite practical actually.  
TT: But thank you.  
TT: Let's stay on task.

Dave carefully placed the explosive into the soil, making sure to angle it so that the brunt of the blast would be concentrated into the pot. The charges were just to distract, after all, not to maim. And if the grenade destroyed some ugly property along the way, then that was just par for the course. They were criminals, not savages.

TG: alright got the position locked, boo  
TG: take the b11 hallway next, i already ganked the camera there  
TG: roger that rolal

Just as they said so, the little orange light blinked to life on the side of the grenade. Dave stood up and re-clipped his backpack so that it was snug against his shoulders, then scurried off, hugging the wall.

TT: Speaking of being on task, would you all like to hear about my findings regarding the Obsidian Tear?  
TT: I spent ever so long huddled away in a dusty old library reading about the deep history of the dark accessory, and it would be a shame if my long, hard hours of investigation went to waste and I didn't share at least some of it.  
TG: lmao rosie dont lie you love doin that shit  
TT: Slander.  
TT: This session of probing into the mythos was quite harrowing in particular.  
TT: I was forced to sit in the west wing, where the tomes were concentrated, and the seating cushions in that area's chairs are noticeably less stuffed. As opposed to the rest of their more lavishly upholstered brethren in the facility.  
TG: i could get you a little old lady plush seating cushion if that would help  
TT: Your dedication to the mission is admirable. I hope one day I can be as stalwart a soldier to the cause as you.  
TT: Jesus Christ.

Dave smothered a laugh as he picked his way down the hallway Roxy pointed him towards. He tried to recall the blueprints in his head and connect a route to the treasure they were after. Let's see...B11 connected to B16 and looped into B12. He would need to scurry along if he didn't want to run into that guard again. He could place a few more canisters on this floor before going down farther, but the guard rotating here was already walking around faster than they had planned. No, he would just make his way to the lower floor right away. So that would be...the B16 hallway.

TG: earth to the squabblers  
TG: rolal im on my way to the fault in b16 and going down  
TG: can i get an eta on the camera gankage  
TT: What?  
TT: Where are you going?  
TG: lower floor bro  
TG: come on keep up  
TT: You really just gonna ditch without placing another one of my painstakingly crafted smoke bombs? You know that I weaved our symbolic text colors into the very opaque air they contain for the maximum amount of dramatic irony possible?  
TT: With my masterful hands and endless work hours I have created a distraction that is not only 'cool as shit' and 'the most fly', but is also compressed into a small, palm sized portable container just for this very purpose.  
TT: So that it would be as easy as possible for you to place them in strategic places during this mission, as per our written plan. You know that right?  
TG: aww dirky  
TT: Don't make me beg, Dave.  
TT: Please don't.  
TG: alright damn  
TG: ill put your smoke baby by the closet if itll get you off my dick  
TG: eta about 3 mins for gankery ;3  
TG: plenty of time

At the end of the hallways that they had labelled B16 on the blueprints, there was a slight fault in one of the closet crawlspaces. The wall of the closet wasn't quite lined up right with the wall behind it, and if Dave could get up into the crawlspace, he could ease into the space between the two walls and drop to a lower floor's crawlspace. On the plans it looked like a pretty tight squeeze, but it was such a sneaky method that he couldn't resist at least giving it a shot. And hey, if worse came to worst, getting trapped in the wall was only a slightly better alternative to getting caught.

While he slunk along the wall, Dave picked a bundle from his pack and deftly unwound a small air canister from the felt it was wrapped in. Metal on metal was really noisy, so each canister had to be wrapped in insulation so they wouldn't clank together in his bag.

He knelt again and laid it down carefully so that it was partially concealed by the elaborately carved base of a lamp, then waited patiently for the little orange light to blink on near the release valve.

TG: god i hate this part  
TG: cant you sleuth out a better way to release this stuff on command  
TT: It's fine, Dave, I've got it.  
TT: Twist and a half.

Dave held his breath and obediently gripped the knob at the top. He pressed his thumb against the nozzle, too. It wouldn't stop the air from flowing out, but maybe it could buy him some time if Dirk inexplicably didn't have it somehow. He twisted once quickly, then eased the half turn way more slowly than normal. Hey, he had 3 minutes to burn before Roxy replaced the feed on the cameras. Might as well spend it nervous as fuck.

The valve gave the slightest hiss of pressure, and Dave's muscles locked up.

But then it went quiet. The tiniest puff of orange smoke wedged past Dave's thumb and dissipated.

Dave let out a long breath, and unlocked his hands from where they were frozen on the valve.

TT: Looks like some air got trapped between the two valves.  
TG: fuck you man  
TT: We've been over this.  
TT: No one manufactures air tanks with non-manual release valves. My valves that open remotely don't take kindly to jostling. I need to close mine from here, and then you need to twist the manual knob. We tested them at home, they're safe.  
TG: woah tiger chill out  
TG: gettin a little defensive about your smoke bombs  
TT: Are you perhaps feeling unappreciated in the workplace, Dirk?  
TT: Oh for fucks sake.  
TT: I can’t even make an attempt to usurp the ornery monarchy in this house.  
TT: They’ve got a tight, iron grip on all things verbal and ill-tempered.  
TT: And Rose Strider looked upon all that she had wrought, and saw it was good.  
TG: bullhocky you didnt even look up at my sexy pout  
TG: thats the real lampoon

Dave skimmed over the text briefly, then continued on his way. Honestly, solo missions were never really his thing. Having a team of two in the field meant one less person hanging over him and typing text across his line of sight. But during slow moments like this, it did have some perks.

TG: we good on the cams rox  
TG: damn 3 mins exactly thats pretty good timing, d  
TG: yeah youre good go ahead to your lil wall crevice

Dave looked both ways for any sign of life. When he saw none, he slunk along the hallway in a crouch. The faulty closet in question was built modestly into the wall at the end of a pretty wide hallway. Dave consciously rubbed some warmth back into his hands and then tested the door handle. Of course it was unlocked, because who would lock an empty closet? He eased the door open carefully, preparing as always for the harsh squeak of the hinges, but they were well-oiled and swung open easily.

There were actually things lining the shelves in this basement closet, and it looked like the graveyard for all the stuff that makes houses look lived in. There were sheets, pillows, old dusty toys, and seasonal decorations sitting down here, just waiting for the right time of year when someone would put out the pink glass bird instead of the blue glass bird.

Dave rolled his shoulder and started to climb the shelves.

TG: well damn dont stop talking right at the part where im about to get stuck in a wall  
TT: Apologies, I'll get back to my dissertation on the treasure of the evening.  
TG: the talk of the town  
TG: oh damn i didnt know the necklace was such hot shit  
TG: well duh why would we steal cold shit dave  
TT: Actually, the title 'Obsidian Tear' refers to the stone at the center of the necklace. The rest of it is practically worthless, and just serves as wearable window dressing for the stone.

With a small, barely-audible 'hup' Dave hopped up and clung to the edge of the highest shelf by his fingertips. Slowly, he adjusted his grip with his right hand and carefully extended his left towards the small hatch in the ceiling. His hand barely reached the handle, but he tweaked it with his index finger. Then, with another reach, he snagged it with his middle as well. It was so much harder to open these without a ladder.

He popped it open with the faintest squeak of the hinges and prepared for a dangerous jump to grab for the lip of the opening.

TT: The Obsidian Tear, while not a particularly valuable stone by itself, has earned itself exceptional notoriety and value by virtue of its intricate carving.  
TT: The stone in question is quite small, about the length of a paperclip.  
TT: It depicts a black snake curled around a small marble.  
TT: What makes the stone valuable is the small details of the carving. In the photos I sought out once could see each individual scale on the serpent.  
TG: damn 

Dave pushed up off the shelf with his legs, the awkward angle making it more of a leap of faith than anything else. Luckily, he managed a good grip with his fingertips on the first try. Without wasting any time to catch his breath, Dave swung his feet, careful to not knock any priceless knick-knacks from their perches. He used the momentum to heave himself up and into the crawlspace.  
Rose's purple text scrolled in a steady line across his vision as he pulled his legs through the opening. He then reached back and closed the trapdoor, which shut out the last of the already-scarce light from below.

TT: The piece is quite old, but has miraculously remained in the artist's family for almost a century. They were quite open to offers of renting the necklace out for display in art museums, but vehemently refused to sell it.  
TT: Interestingly enough, the sculpture itself is not what draws the attention of the most enthusiastically detailed transcripts, but the marble at the center.  
TT: The nature of the obsidian stone makes the marble appear as a cloudy dark green in natural light. The author of one of the transcripts likened the sphere to the eye of Mammon.  
TG: who  
TT: A biblical demon of lust and greed.  
TT: Some thought he possessed Julius Caesar, or even that Cesar himself was Mammon incarnate.  
TG: wait hold on  
TG: lust?  
TT: What, you don't believe JC can perform? You don't think he was having as much sublime, ancient sex with Brutus as he could possibly manage?  
TG: im not doubting my man, i just want to understand and weigh my options before i pick this demon lust rock up  
TT: You're wearing gloves.  
TG: im no expert but i dont think gloves protect you from demon vibes

Dave edged backwards through the thin space on his stomach, kicking up dust and leaving stray clean spots in the grime where his fingers scraped through. It was a really uncomfortable L-shaped angle, and he had to do some careful maneuvering in order to shimmy his legs all the way down into the space. Once halfway in, and already looking decidedly uncool as his cape bunched around his shoulders and face, he carefully eased the rest of the way down, keeping his legs braced so as not to put too much strain on his fingertips. Finally finding a space not already occupied by pink fiberglass and support beams, Dave craned his neck to make sure he had a place to put his feet before letting go of the ledge. For the most part, the night vision on his shades was pretty good, but it was not enough to see all the way down into the hole below him. It was criss-crossed only barely by inviting pieces of timber. 

Praying that nothing would give under his weight, Dave let go and dropped the last few feet, his soundless shoes still letting out a muffled thud against the planks as he landed. His chest was pressed a little too tightly against the two walls, but he could squeeze through alright. At this point in his life he'd had his fair share of practice forcing his body into tight spaces. 

There wasn't enough room to kneel, or even turn his body, and he still couldn't fucking see anything below his feet.  
Shit. Maybe he wasn’t going to look as cool as he initially thought.

Heaving a sigh of disappointment, Dave pressed his palms against the wall in front of him, and braced his back against the wood. Painstakingly he inched downwards, searching for the ledge of the lower crawlspace with his foot while Rose rambled on. 

TT: The exact details were unclear, as I suspect some instances of superstition influenced the document greatly, but apparently the necklace has a habit of garnering illicit and extreme attention.  
TG: lustful you mean  
TT: In a sense, yes.  
TT: Though beautiful, the piece was decidedly rather unremarkable when placed in a court with its peers. By design it is small and rather unassuming. And yet on more than one occasion there are cases of the gallery curators refusing to part with the necklace, and only that necklace.  
TT: Offering inordinate sums of money, and on occasion even more than their entire net worth could reasonably allow.  
TT: One curator in particular is cited as having a full on hysterical meltdown when the accessory was removed from their care by authorities.  
TT: I can only extrapolate that the 'Obsidian Tear' might have gained its nickname from this incident.

Dave's shoes finally connected with open space instead of wood, and he gratefully rested them on the edge of the opening to the second crawlspace. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, he lowered himself into it carefully, making sure not to disturb too much fiberglass in the process.  
Once he was finally inside the space, there was a lot more room to work with. He flipped onto his stomach and army-crawled around to search for the hatch.

TG: wait its a nickname  
TG: what was it called b4 that then?  
TT: The original name that the artist bequeathed upon it was 'Pluto'.  
TG: like the dog?  
TT: No.

Dave bumped the hatch open and dropped down into the closet with considerably more ease than it took getting up. This closet was utterly barren aside from the empty lines of the shelves. Dave scaled back up the nearest one and quietly closed the crawlspace hatch. Landing back on the ground, he tucked a stray tuft of blonde hair back under his hood where it had come loose and tugged the fabric back down over his forehead. 

The closet door creaked quietly on its hinges, and Dave winced behind his mask. He opened it just wide enough so that he could slip through.

TT: This is my own personal extrapolation, as the texts I uncovered neglected to mention this, but I do believe that whatever power this stone carving holds over others had ensnared the rightful owners just as badly as it had ensnared the curators.  
TT: At certain points in time, the family could have never had to worry about money ever again with the amounts they were offered.  
TT: Yet they never intended to part with it until recently.  
TT: Perhaps they thought of themselves as martyrs, holding onto the cursed object and shouldering the burden.  
TG: lmao rosie youre such a dork about this stuff  
TT: Am I?  
TG: yes, you are  
TG: the only important part is the part where they got totally hornswoggaled out of their sweet demon necklace  
TG: by felt goons  
TT: Yes. Publicly, the family received less than 5% of the common market value on the necklace, and without any fuss.  
TG: i beefed up on the documents just last week so i could dig through for convincin receipts.  
TG: obv when bcc offered to buy the thing the first time it was resoundin 'no way jose'  
TG: then crocker bought up a shit ton of their assets and started stranglin them financially  
TG: guess they figured no necklace was worth their house  
TT: Their lives as well.  
TG: yeah that too  
TG: the threats from the mob to kill you with real actual gold bullets is pretty persuasive ngl

Busy recalling the blueprints for the lowest floor as well as comparing the guard rotations against the current time, Dave took a second to stop and crouch in a relatively safe corner. He read the log back and faltered for a second.

TG: huh  
TG: what?  
TG: the honest to christ mob  
TG: i guess i never really thought of it that way before  
TT: You didn’t think we were stealing from the mob when I said, specifically, 'Dave, today we are stealing from the mob'?  
TG: no hold on  
TG: you said we were stealing from the felt not the mob  
TG: youre putting words in my damn mouth just crammin them in there  
TT: The Felt are the Chicago mafia, Dave  
TG: yeah i know but it doesn’t hit as hard as when you say we are stealing from the mob.  
TG: stealing some shit from the felt?  
TG: low impact  
TG: okay now we are stealing shit from the *mob*  
TG: oh motherfuck  
TG: shit just got a lot more intense now that we are using real words for stuff  
TG: yeah he’s right that’s two different vibes right there  
TT: Can we please focus.

Dave checked the time again, running through as many cross references in his head as his memory could scrounge up. It was a good thing that he was used to improvising on missions like this, because the memorization and spatial awareness stuff was not his shtick. Regardless, he was pretty sure he could go a little further along the route before he had to contact Roxy again for another camera assist.

He shook off another shiver and crept quietly along the wall, trailing his gloved fingers along the marble patchwork. He traced the black inky pattern with his index finger as he went. Even through his glove he could tell that it was cold as ice.

TG: damn this sucks  
TG: im gonna fucking freeze down here dont they pay for any heating at all  
TT: The building is lined with marble and you're about two stories underground during late winter in Chicago.  
TT: You can hardly expect a balmy 72 degrees even with the best heating systems.  
TG: you can count me out the fuck out next time we hit this place  
TG: hey dave, you want to wander around alone in a huge creepy minimalist freezer box today  
TG: dont worry youll only get shot at if they spot your black backstage duds against the white wall  
TG: well shit dogg sounds dope as fuck ill do it  
TG: as long as i get a cursed necklace that makes me into a horny psychopath

CrockerCorp had enough money to replace this end table, right? There couldn't be potted plants on every corner, after all. He eased the small drawer open and found it lined with wood instead of marble. Perfect.

He knelt down next to the decor and pulled out another kit from his backpack.

TT: Don't think for a second that you're not still getting the baby missions, Dave.  
TT: You can sit at the big kids table with the other more well-endowed members of the team when you graduate to the Felt hideout.  
TG: nooo  
TG: i dont wanna talk about hell murder manor  
TG: ive still got a sore shoulder where that crowbar guy bashed me  
TG: not all that excited for my future first visit to clock hell either if im being honest  
TT: I'm almost certain the sound of all the clocks ticking at once is a form of psychological warfare that the Geneva conventions specifically forbid.  
TT: You're right. It's right here, directly under the article discussing the murder of unarmed civilians.  
TT: 'And also if you have a million goddamn clocks don't sync them up perfectly. Shit gives me a fucking headache'.  
TT: Astounding the foresight on some of these delegates.  
TT: Can't leave anything out if you're single-handedly parsing out what's a war crime and what's just generally a little bit annoying.

Once he got into the rhythm, Dave started to multitask a little quicker, swiftly depositing four more concussion grenades and a smoke canister where they wouldn't be discovered in the dimly lit halls for at least another few minutes. If he hustled, he could get back on schedule and make up some time.

TG: alright i think theres more guys around the actual storeroom then we thought  
TG: the entrance is guarded and theyre not even walking around or anything just standing there  
TG: i dont think theres any more floor plan fuckery like the crawlspaces around here either  
TG: though i gotta give vantas mad props this time for actually putting the thing out of sight  
TG: it was kinda hard to find this time  
TG: theres a lot of loose storerooms on the floorplans, so thank rosie for narrowin it down with the molework  
TG: doesnt count for much if i cant get in  
TG: how about this  
TG: dave im gonna set off dirks little bombs now instead of when youre leavin  
TG: so get in and out and make it quick okay  
TG: sweet  
TG: these losers are about to pay for havin an open radio channel  
TT: Oh shit.

The two explosions that followed were felt rather than heard, and accompanied by the sound of shattering furniture and glass. Altogether, it made the destruction sound a lot worse, and also a lot farther away than it actually was. Dave watched as the two men stationed outside the door flinched, and then glanced at each other nervously. Probably thinking to themselves, shit man, it's starting, strap in.

But really, it was almost over.

Right on cue, both of the radios snapped to their hips crackled to life, and a voice that sounded nothing like Roxy screamed out in agonized cry for backup.

Fervently, one of the guards raised the radio to his mouth to respond with a quite reasonable "Hello? What happened? Over."

But it was too late to get a good word in, and a symphony of confused and panicked voices erupted over the communication line, filling the previously dead quiet hallway with voices half-drowned in static. Another charge detonated, closer this time, and the cacophony only increased.

Dave could barely hear Roxy connecting and disconnecting, but he caught one or two snippets of voices he recognized from their library, over-dramatically crying out for help, doing whatever they could to escalate panic.

There's five of them, no, seven, now three. Saw them heading for the higher floors. One's in the kitchen. Officer down, send immediate backup to B1. If there's anyone nearby, please respond!

TG: nice voice acting  
TG: shush im workin

Another explosion, and it must have been one of the charges buried in a plant. Shattering porcelain and muffled cursing echoed from directly above. The poor sound absorption of the building didn't help in the least, and actually seemed to amplify the confusion, muffled yells and pounding footsteps coming in from every direction as everyone at once tried to find out what was going on and respond at the same time.

A glance passed between the two guards, and they seemed to struggle for only a second longer before one broke formation and jogged off briskly, thankfully not towards Dave's hiding place.

TG: one down  
TG: lay it on thicker  
TG: i said shoosh

The door opened with an almost soundless creak, and a few additional guards from inside the room poked their heads out cautiously, probably to check and see if there were burning dead bodies piled up outside the storeroom, or if the shouts on the radio just made it seem that way.

Over the muffled explosions and the static, Dave could recognize one recurring voice in particular. It demanded specifics. Locations, employee numbers, damage reports, please can everyone shut the fuck up and calm down for five godforsaken minutes? Alas, it was mostly drowned out.

The small group exchanged some words that Dave couldn't make out. He could only guess what they were discussing. Maybe they were weighing their options. Stay here? We’ll probably get blown to pieces protecting a necklace. Leave? We could just scatter into the chaos, say we were responding to the distress calls. Yeah, that sounds reasonable. Whatever it was that they said, the three of them apparently decided that it was safer to be someplace else. Dave’s remaining obstacles walked out of the room and scattered.

Dave pressed himself as far as he could into the shadow of the hefty dresser he had situated himself behind when one of them headed his way. Thankfully, the hell raising seemed to do its job well, and the woman didn't even glance back before she rounded the corner and was gone.

TG: i love that trick  
TG: go go go!!!!

Dave scurried out from his hiding spot and grabbed the door just before it closed all the way. With a quick flick of his wrist, he was inside.

If the sound absorption was bad in the hallway, it was downright villainous in the storage room. The sound of the wooden door closing behind him echoed with a boom that was louder than the initial sound itself. The space was large and long, with a short row of stairs leading down to what looked like a high-ceiling vault lit by warm fluorescent bulbs. Enormous metal warehouse racks full of everything from crates full of glass dishes to lawn ornaments lined the walls, floor to ceiling. Dave whistled a low, impressed note, and it bounced off the walls, all the way to the end of the room. It had to be the size of a ballroom, maybe even larger. And yet the slight chaos in this room actually looked more lived in than the rest of the house. He could almost imagine someone coming down here for the bobsled when it was snowing, or retrieving the blue tablecloth if the one upstairs had a stain on it.

TG: alright rose where was it again  
TG: this place is kinda fucking huge  
TT: I believe it was the fourth shelf down from the door on the left side.  
TT: They thought to try and place it behind an unopened cotton candy machine box at about eye level if that helps.  
TT: Shit, we are dealing with a master tactician here.  
TT: Unless the location changed, thereby putting all my careful infiltration work to waste.  
TG: no i see it

After removing the frighteningly heavy cotton candy machine from where it was neatly slotted on the shelf, and placing it at his feet, Dave retrieved the small, metal lock box behind it.

TG: is this it  
TG: im not about to crack into some old family photos and birth certificates right  
TT: The lack of dust should be your first clue.  
TG: man maybe they just really like their lock-boxable stuff i dunno  
TT: Yes, that's the box, Dave.

Retrieving the small bundle of lock picks from his belt, Dave leafed through them for one that was small enough to fit into the rather minuscule keyhole. It was a lot smaller than he initially expected. He placed the box on the shelf, pushed the leverage in on the lower half, then started testing the levers inside with the needle-sized pick. It was going to be so hard to hear those clicks, he thought dourly.

It took less than two minutes of ignoring Dirk's advice and Roxy's nonsense before the top of the box clicked open.  
Dave pushed the lip open and pulled out the necklace from the velvet casing that it was nestled in. He let the thin chain dangle between his fingers, and got a good look at the gem in question. It really was a sickly, blackish green in the warm light. It rotated slightly so that the pin sized snake was hissing directly at him, and it was so detailed that it almost looked alive.

TG: how do we know that this one isnt like  
TG: fake  
TG: i mean like really they could have double duped our sorry asses  
TG: too late for regrets!!!!  
TG: hurry up and go i only have like 3 more blasts left

Dave twirled it once, then caught it in his palm. Roxy was right, there really wasn't time for regrets. He swiftly pocketed the trinket - or, the valuable art piece - and retrieved the fake one stashed on his belt. It was significantly less detailed, the snake itself was really silly looking, and it wouldn't fool anyone for more than a minute, but Rose already made the damn thing. It was for a scenario where Dave would have managed to slip in and out completely unnoticed. That was out the window now that everyone knew they were here, but Dave would still leave this little doofy snake just because it was really funny to imagine someone coming down to check on the necklace and finding the poor quality fake.

He put everything back into place, ending by pushing the cotton candy machine carefully back into the slot.  
It was like he was never there.

TG: alright i think we need a new escape plan  
TG: the guard rotation i memorized doesnt mean shit anymore now that roxy blew the whole mansion up  
TG: hehehe  
TT: There should be a vent in B2-14 that connects the central air system duct. From there you might be able to slip to the outside of the building, along the leftmost side. Then you can run to the waypoint yourself.  
TT: I would advise you to be careful, but to be truthful, I don't believe that anyone is going to be checking the air vents for thieves anytime soon.  
TG: alright i think i can manage that

Just as Dave started to fall into a light jog towards the stairs, the echoing boom of the door being wrenched open from the top of the stairs had him skidding to a halt. Before he could even blink, a frenzied-looking man in a grey knit pullover and slacks careened down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

His foot hit the final stair hard just as he looked up and blanched at the sight of Dave, the muscles in his body tightening visibly, even under the thick sweater.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other, a little aghast. The man recovered quickly, his thick, dark eyebrows returning from his hairline down into a deep scowl. He jabbed a harsh finger in Dave's direction. "Alright asshole, end of the fucking road."

His voice was rough and he was clearly out of breath from the presumed sprint. His threat carried like a bullhorn all the way to the end of the room, and it rang familiar in Dave's ears.

The radio clipped to his belt was still crackling with the frenzied cries of his security team, but he had clearly given up on being heard and turned the volume down.

Despite himself, Dave broke into a giddy, wide grin, wide enough that the man might even be able to see it break through from under the mask that covered a good portion of Dave's face. He definitely recognized this guy from photos that Roxy had shown him, and in the numerous heists he'd been a part of. He was always certain to hear his voice at least once. Dave really could not have orchestrated a better first meeting if he tried.

TG: oh motherfuck  
TG: vantas is here  
TT: Shit.  
TG: yes fucking finally  
TG: its my turn to fuck with vantas  
TT: That's not what we do at all.

Karkat Vantas somehow mustered up the stubbornness and gumption to be physically present at every single mission that they had launched against CrockerCorp. At that point Dave was starting to get the idea that his constant presence had less to do with his job as the head of the private security team, and that he was starting to take the repeated failures personally. 

If it was even possible, Vantas' scowl deepened at the sight of Dave's giddiness. He really shouldn't have underestimated the depths that his snarl could reach. "Oh, you think this is fucking funny, huh? This moronic clown-concentric circklejerk disaster is a fun little game to you?"

The thief always loved listening to Vantas' angry rants over the radio. He was so easy to get riled up, and Dave could definitely take that anger and use it to gain a leg up. It was also always really fun to watch Roxy egg him on, and Dave had never really gotten the chance to. 

Dave shrugged, then shifted backwards a step, trying to coax the security manager away from where he was blocking the doorway. As nimble as Dave was, Vantas was a big guy. A big guy who was built like a brick wall, and if he was determined to block the doorway, then there was no way through.

It totally worked, and Vantas started towards him, still wagging his finger like he was scolding a dog or something. "Listen here, you cretinous little douche bag, no amount of fucking expletives are going to be adequate enough to express the depths of misery you are going to be in when I get over there. And then your ass is gonna be the one who has to clear a fuck ton of orange-soda scented smoke out of a 50-billion square foot marble tomb, you son of a bitch."

It took every ounce of Dave's self control to not respond, and he bit his lip to hold back. It would not be good if Vantas memorized his voice.

Dave carefully slid a little farther backwards, waiting for his adversary to get close enough. Then he quickly darted to the right, preemptively giving himself enough space to skirt around a grab he knew Vantas would throw his way. Except he didn't get that far, because the second he moved to the side, Vantas quickly sidestepped and cut him off. It was only Dave's crazy quick reflexes that kept him from getting grabbed by the extended reach, but he still stumbled into an awkward half-hop backwards, just barely catching himself from falling onto his ass. Not the most elegant dodge, but he shook it off quickly.

Okay, second try. He faked a sprint left, though actually darted to the right. No dice. He backed off more smoothly before he fell into grabbing range this time, expecting the quick reaction from his adversary. Vantas didn't have to move all that much to block him off, and he was apparently aware of this and kept his movements minimal to combat Dave's speed.

Dave whistled, impressed, and he watched with delight as Vantas' face tinged pink.

It had the intended effect, and the security manager surged forward, making a reckless snatch for Dave's forearm. Dave laughed, dancing backwards out of reach again, and falling into step by matching Vantas' forward movement with his own shuffles backwards, forcing the two of them into an odd kind of rhythm. 

TG: hey rox can you do me a solid  
TG: yeah if you promise to quit flirtin with death  
TG: yeah i will right after  
TG: ive got an idea

At that point, he was close enough to the guy that he could pick out details like the dark bags under his eyes, as well as the beginnings of a dark five o' clock shadow threatening to come through on his jawline. He knew that if Vantas made one more grab with his left hand he could just reach in and…

Ever cooperative, and also starting to spit expletives seemingly at random, Vantas tried again with his left hand, probably his dominant hand, and when he did, he made sure to throw out his right arm just a little, probably to make sure Dave couldn't slip by. It did leave him wide open for a different kind of attack, though.

Dave stepped forward and crouched, reaching forwards and grabbing the radio attached to Vantas' hip. With a quick flick of the wrist, it was out of it's holster and settled in Dave's palm.

Vantas, clearly not expecting that, didn't pursue the thief, instead looking incredulously at the now-empty space on his hip as Dave sprang backwards, putting more distance between them. When he looked back up, Dave threw up a quick peace sign, and hopped up onto the shelf to his left, quickly scaling the structure.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!" Vantas cussed under his breath as he jogged forward and missed securing a grip on Dave's left shoe by mere inches. He honest to god snarled, and for just a second, when Dave glanced back down at him, it almost looked like he was considering climbing up there as well. Wisely, he reconsidered, and held his ground, waiting his adversary out instead of trying to chase him down. "Alright, congrats scumbag, you already won the 'who can be the most aggravating shit-sniveling fuckwad' contest in a landslide. Everyone else has already gone home, you can stop pissing yourself up on stage while clutching your phallic trophy to your chest. Ha ha fucking ha, we all get it, you can knock it off now."

Dave ignored the remark, swinging his legs over a large crate, and hopping over the items on the top shelf, picking his way carefully towards the door. Stopping for a second after watching Vantas trail him kind of pathetically from the floor, Dave tugged his mask up from where it was tucked into the cape around his shoulders and against his throat, exposing his mouth.

TG: alright rox can you black out all the comms after this  
TG: oh god what are you doing

Dave held a fist up in front of his mouth, and exaggeratedly cleared his throat. "Ah, ah, ah...testing testing...Fuck, fucking fuuuuuck..." Dave dropped his voice as low and gravelly as he could make it, listening to the sound in his own ears and tuning it towards Vantas' specific cadence. He wasn't ever going to be as good at voice work as Roxy, but they had passed on everything they possibly could, and over a crackly, outdated radio, he didn't need to be perfect.

"What the hell?" Vantas sputtered from below.

"What the hell?" Dave repeated, comparing the tone, and he decided that was as close as he was going to get. He pressed the call button on the radio and gathered his breath, getting ready to project like there was no tomorrow.

"Attention shitheads, now that you're all apparently done eating your own feces off of the floor and have found the free time to listen to my boneheadedly simple instructions, clear the shit out of your ears and listen up again because i'm about to lay another one out, and I don't want a single one of you lagging behind." Dave quickly released the button for a second, and coughed into his hand. While it was fun and all pretending to be Vantas, the voice was pretty harsh on his throat.

While the real Vantas yelled out his frustrations below, completely out of the microphone's range, Dave continued into the radio. "I want every single one of you shameful brain dead piss stains out by the front entrance five minutes ago. There's going to be a debriefing, and since you all rejected my piteous requests for them earlier, you're all going to sit there and listen to the unabridged version, featuring: Your Worst Fucking Nightmare. Can everyone stop fondling themselves long enough to do what I say for once? Let’s try really hard this time, okay? Over and out."

TG: alright done shut it down rox  
TG: lmao you got him so good dave that sounded just like him!  
TG: so fuckin proud  
TT: This has sure been a fucking gas, but how exactly do you plan on getting out of this room?  
TG: planning on playing it by ear honestly  
TT: There should be a vent in the corner of the room.  
TT: I believe it leads straight to the roof, if you're up for the several-minute long vertical climb that it takes to reach it.  
TT: You called all the on-site guards to the front of the house, so it would be easy to escape around the back garden from the roof. Providing that you don't mind the subsequent run down the rather steep and by all accounts rather un-navigable forested hill to the south of the abode.  
TG: shit  
TG: well i guess i made this damn bed  
TG: see you on the other side lol

He made sure to shoot Vantas another grin before securing the radio into his pack. He took care in pulling the stretchy material of the mask back down over his mouth, and tucking it back under his cape with practiced hands. Dave bowed low from on top of the shelf, making sure to do the extraneous hand waves that came with the territory when one was mocking piety like this.

"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Vantas" He said, because it was only nice and proper to thank someone when they let you borrow something. Though saying it with Vantas' deep grumble made the phrase sound just plain wrong. It wouldn't shock Dave to know that the man had never even thought to string those words together in that order before.  
He straightened out from the bow with a flourish, and glanced quickly at the vent that would serve as his getaway, situated near the floor on the far wall.

Then he bolted.

Dave was pretty fast. He was all long limbs and elastic muscles, coiled up and ready to snap off in any direction at a moment's notice. A little ball of reflexes tempered from years of reckless parkour (as well as several resulting injuries) in the concrete jungle of Houston . He could even outrun Dirk, which came in handy more often than one would think.  
Neither he nor Vantas were under any illusion that Dave would lose in a battle of speed, but between climbing back down and getting inside the vent, this maneuver was a pretty risky move. Dave still had to try it, though. Since Vantas was being extremely protective of the door, he wouldn't be that quick to move away from it as long as he thought there was no other exit. Dave was counting on those few seconds of hesitation to let him slip away.

With both hands free, Dave jumped and vaulted over priceless and not so priceless knick-knacks with wild abandon, tipping and dislodging some boxes of old clothes and coiled up garden hoses as he went, sending them crashing to the floor. He glanced down quickly, and just as he thought, Vantas was trailing him, albeit cautiously, making sure that Dave wasn't just making another fake out attempt to get to the door, and they had a good amount of distance built up.

Dave planted his palm on a wooden box and swung his legs up over it, then made a reckless hop down to the second highest shelf, just barely catching himself from falling backwards with the tips of his fingers. Without wasting any time, he jumped again, diagonally, so he was still putting space between him, and the now-faster-moving Vantas.

The security manager was hissing obscenities under his breath as he got closer, now also moving at a sprint to catch up. Dave made sure that he hit the ground at a dead sprint, but he landed a little too hard on his left foot, stumbling for a second before pushing his legs harder.

He snickered and turned his head over his shoulder to check on his adversary, but he never got far enough to catch a glance of him.

All the air left his lungs at once in a choked off breath when a solid object collided heavily with his lower back, and the impact was enough that it felt like getting hit with a flying brick. He went down instantly in a rolling tangle, landing on his hip before rolling onto his stomach. His knees hit first, and then elbows, making audible cracks on the hard floor as he fell.

Dave's cry of alarm came out as more of a wheeze, the tight grip around his middle and the weight that had dragged him to the floor did not let up enough to let him make back the breath that was knocked out of him. He never thought Vantas would body tackle him like that.

Dave begrudgingly reassessed his impression of the guy.

Maybe because it was just an act of pure desperation, but Vantas seemed to almost be at a loss after that. Maybe he was also reeling from the hard fall as well, or maybe he heard Dave's rough breaths and wanted to let up just a little, out of pity. Either way, he lifted himself up slightly off of Dave without bothering to pin his legs down, which was his first mistake. As soon as the weight lifted, Dave twisted his hips sharply to the right. It would be completely impossible to throw Vantas off by laying on his stomach, but he might be able to grapple, or even throw a punch if he could get onto his back.

Vantas pressed his weight back down onto Dave, pushing his forearm onto Dave's chest with a slightly-panicked "Shit!" the second he moved, but he wasn't quick enough to stop the thief from flipping over successfully.

Dave huffed out another pained grunt when Vantas dropped back down onto his sternum. Oh yeah, every single pound that Vantas had over Dave was solid muscle, there was no doubt about that now. Tussling with a tank of a man was just the perfect reminder to Dave of why exactly he hated hand-to-hand.

"Jesus, just....hold still shithead!" Vantas spat at him angrily, trying to ineffectually pin him down in a better hold while Dave kicked and squirmed away.

Dave laughed, an out-of-breath, but genuine sort of laugh, half-delirious with blooming panic. He wasn't totally sure if he could get away from this.

Vantas pulled his weight back to settle on his haunches before making a quick grab for Dave's wrists. In his mind's eye, Dave could overlay what he was seeing right then with a million other images of Dirk doing the same move during their sparring sessions. Dave moved quicker on instinct. And anyway, if this move worked on Dirk, then it would definitely work on Vantas.

Dave's hands darted forward, and he grabbed for Vantas' wrists instead, flipping the hold. When the man recoiled, Dave used the new space between their two chests to wedge his knees into the space. The look in Vantas' eyes was one that absolutely knew he was in trouble now, which was exactly the look that Dave was gunning for. He planted the balls of his feet squarely against Vantas' stomach, and shoved, while pulling his wrists towards himself roughly. Honestly, Vantas deserved to be winded after the stunt that he pulled earlier, and Dave couldn't deny the sweet satisfaction that crept in when he watched the air get kicked right out of him.

Vantas was a lot more built than Dirk, and Dave faltered for a second, before finally getting the momentum, and pushing the guy in a full 180, all the way over onto his back behind Dave.

Not able to waste any time catching his breath, Dave rolled over and took the few stumbling steps towards the vent entrance. Thankfully, the grates weren't bolted in, just on hinges. Dave dug his fingertips into the slats and threw it open. Once his shoulders passed through with just the barest tight fit, Dave sighed with relief. It would have been really uncool if he'd made that mad dive for the vent, and then couldn't fit through it.

His sigh quickly turned into a genuine yelp, and his fingers scrabbled on the metal as Vantas tried to pull him back out by one of his ankles. 

The gloves he was wearing were nice and all, and the thin rubber on the fingers and palms did help for grip, but in this particular instance, Dave wished he had more friction. The harsh squeak of them against the metal boomed out so much loud in the confined tube that Dave winced at it. Vantas pulled again and, holy shit, that was a lot of fucking upper body strength there. With arms like those Vantas could easily pick him up one handed -- wait why was he thinking about stuff like that?

Dave kicked out his other foot blindly, trying to dislodge Vantas' monster grip on his ankle. In another act of spur-of-the moment disdain, he wished that his shoes had better kicking power. However, a couple swift heel-kicks to what he assumed was Vantas' face and/or jaw seemed to do the trick just fine as well, and with one final expletive, his ankle was released.

Dave had never scurried through a vent so quickly in his entire life. Even the ever-creeping burn in his muscles that reminded him that he was just wrestling with a brick wall couldn't stop him from scaling the long, vertical pipe. After what felt like mere seconds, he was pushing the grate out of the way, and exiting onto the dimly lit roof. He flopped onto his back on the gravel with a soft crunch, splaying out as he caught his breath for a second.

TT: Maybe it's in bad form to remind you of this after that ordeal, but this entire scenario could have been avoided with just a little more caution, applied in the right spots.  
TT: It's not in bad form, don't worry.  
TT: You definitively set out to earn that ass-kicking. You swerved into every goal post that would result in the whoop being laid into your entire ass. Congrats, bro.  
TG: i didnt get my ass kicked dont be dramatic  
TG: dave are you okay? :(  
TG: yeah  
TG: yeah no im good its cool  
TT: Better get your ass in gear.  
TT: Vantas is probably already storming up those stairs as we speak.  
TG: fuuuuck dude is kinda relentless  
TT: You wanted to meet him.  
TG: i mean i at least gotta give him some respect for it though

Dave tipped his head and glanced around the roof looking out for any cameras that someone would be insane enough to put up here. It was a small caution, since his cover was already blown, but he could still be followed if they saw what direction he went in.

TG: are there any cameras left rox  
TG: i cant even remember  
TG: theres just one in the back garden, but i got it while you were in the vent  
TG: gotchu covered to the MAX  
TG: oh shit thanks  
TG: alright back garden it is  
TT: I'm en route to the way-point and I can't stick around for long once I get there, so hurry up.  
TG: what no  
TG: dirks picking me up?

The sentiment got Dave rolling back over and standing up, the gravel biting into his knees as he did so. He did an awkward half-jog over to the south edge of the roof, the farthest he could be from the supposed crowd of guards that were gathering on the front lawn.

Right next to the edge of the roof was a long, wavy metal sculpture that turned into an elaborate fountain that decorated the edge of the garden in the backyard. It looked extremely easy to climb, and a much better method of descent than just jumping and rolling into the shrubbery. Dave took a small running start and leaped from the roof, aiming for one of the grooves in the metal.

TT: Dirk is the fastest driver.  
TT: As well as the only one of us who can use the motorcycle efficiently.  
TG: i think you mean the craziest driver  
TG: man i hate riding with him  
TG: hes always doing his insane pop-a-wheelie adrenaline junkie stuff when im riding with him  
TT: I can still read everything you're typing about me.  
TT: Even if I couldn't multitask, I could just read the logs afterwards.  
TG: eyes on the road!!!

Dave sighed through his nose, and started to make his way down the statue. The cool metal was obscenely polished and slick, and even factoring in the slight grip from his gloves and shoes, it was still pretty dangerous. The chaotic waves of the metal were helping, though, sharp edges giving him good footholds. It took a lot longer than just jumping, but eventually Dave's feet hit the stone walkway.

He turned and jogged towards the back gate, making quicker work of the cast iron fence. He hit the ground at a light trot, heading towards the light forest that flanked the back of the mansion.

TG: can i get an eta bro?  
TT: 30 seconds.  
TG: shit are you fucking serious  
TG: theres no way im gonna make that dude

Dave sped up his pace exponentially. His feet slid easily on the morning dew that was gathering on the grass, and he tried to minimize slipping when he could, but still gain speed from the downward slope of the hill the mansion was built on. He was already pushing it, stumbling over loose roots and broken branches as he went. The glow of the lights from the mansion was fading fast, and his night vision kicked in automatically when it got too dark. The range of vision with the shades was...not great. Things that were more than 10 feet in front of him faded into darkness, and Dave cursed to himself quietly when he collided with a bush and lost his footing for a second. He hit the ground and skidded a little in the dirt, which was hard as shit since the ground was frozen solid. But he recovered quickly, dusting the dead leaves and dirt off himself as he continued down. He could barely feel the winter night chill bite at him anymore as the adrenaline still coursing through him kept him warm.

TT: I can't just sit here and wait around for too long, it'll look suspicious as shit.  
TG: how is that suspicious but driving through the city at 400 miles per second isnt  
TG: gimme like  
TG: i dunno 10 minutes to get there  
TT: Make it 7.  
TG: fuck you  
TG: lol dont worry dave he always waits  
TG: its just a trick to get you to hustle  
TT: It's not, and I won't.  
TT: You will.

It took 9 minutes, and Dirk did end up waiting.

Dave slowed his pace to a light jog as he approached the sleek black-and-orange motorcycle his brother was perched on, breathing ragged from exertion. The pointed helmet Dirk was wearing obscured his expression completely, especially in the dim light of a fading streetlamp.

Dave deftly caught the helmet that Dirk tossed to him. "Catch your breath on the way back, come on." He said, voice heavily muffled as he turned back to the handlebars and revved the engine.

Quickly pulling back the black hood, and replacing it with the helmet, Dave stepped forward and swung his leg over the bike in a practiced motion.

As Dirk revved the engine, Dave took a deep breath and prepared for a harrowing ride.


	2. Veins of Sugar and Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. I return from my phantom thief hovel to dish out more content. I hope to drag at least one of you back in with me by the time this is over. 
> 
> Also, I will be updating the tags list as I go, so please note the changes if you're reading this as it updates. Thank you and enjoy!

After what felt like hours, Dirk pulled carefully into the garage of the Lalonde family residence, and killed the engine of the motorcycle. Dave, who had spent the entire trip clutching at Dirk's back and trying not to scream, eagerly dismounted. Dirk walked the bike farther in, to where it needed to be parked, his foot opening the kickstand before he properly dismounted himself. The younger pulled his helmet off and tossed it on a nearby shelf carelessly.

"Dude." Dirk deadpanned from behind him, immediately walking over and picking up the discarded helmet. Dave shrugged while ruffling his hair back out with his fingers. His brother shook his head in abject disappointment, turning to put the helmets away properly. "Everything has a place for a reason, bro. If you lose it, you pay for it."

The door to the house slammed open, and Roxy quickly scurried down the stairs, dressed haphazardly in a blue hoodie and shorts. "Dave! Great job!" They ran towards him, arms thrown wide open for a hug. Dave let himself be roped into the embrace and awkwardly returned it. Roxy pulled back and held him at arms length, eyes scanning him suspiciously. "You're really not hurt, right?"

"Seriously. I'm fine." He answered, smiling casually, hoping the genuine tone of his voice would placate Roxy. It seemed to work, and they uncoiled, letting their arms drop away.

"Well, I'm sure we're all dying to see the object that you almost got yourself caught over." Rose interjected from the doorway. She beckoned the group inside with a wave of her hand. Dirk, now sans helmet, bumped Dave's shoulder amicably as he passed, following Rose up the stairs and into the house.

Roxy hurried to usher Dave inside as well, citing the cold that was creeping into the uninsulated garage. Dave clumsily kicked off his shoes and discarded his cape and hood on a rack in the mudroom. As he padded after Roxy into the spacious living room, he reached into the small pocket where he stashed the treasure, and held it up between his fingers. He could finally take a closer look at it. 

The detail on the snake was impressive, yet a little creepy up close. Dave pulled his shades up and perched them on his head to see it better, squinting past the burn of the sharp overhead light. This close, he could even see the small carvings that depicted the snake's thin pupils. Rose was right, the contrast of the matte snake, and the glossy pearl at the center drew his eyes in. If he looked close enough, it almost seemed like the fogginess in the pearl was swirling. Dave tilted his head, and held it up against the light. 

Dirk and Roxy both sidled up to him as if on queue. Roxy whistled appreciatively. "Damn, if this thing went with anything I owned I might consider wearing it."

"Not to mention it's supposed mind-controlling attributes." Dirk murmured back. Shades-less as well, he struggled against the light, screwing his eyes up at the trinket. "Seems like something that would spice up an outing."

"Oh shush, you're just trying to scare us. It's a dumb rumor." Roxy stuck their tongue out playfully, swatting Dirk on the shoulder.

Dirk only hummed, bringing a hand up to his chin. 

"May I see it?" Rose asked, politely holding her hand out for the treasure after pulling on a white glove. Dave let it drop into her palm and slid his shades back down over his eyes. Roxy parted from Dave's shoulder and went to their sister to continue ogling the jewelry. Dirk stalked off, rubbing at his eyes; presumably going to retrieve his shades from wherever he stashed them.

"Well." Rose concluded after holding the piece up to the light for a minute. "While I must prelude this remark with a reminder that I have never seen this stone in person, it certainly looks authentic to me. Based off of the quite detailed photos that I was able to find of it, anyway."

Roxy exhaled, relieved. "So we're in the clear? Mission success?"

"Technically, that still remains to be seen. Until we follow through with the heist note and return the heirloom to its original owners, the heist is not completely over. In the meantime, let's all hope that Mammon does not decide to ensnare any one of us with his wiles."

"Oh my god. Can we drop all the talk about the gay thoughts necklace?" Dave said, walking over to Roxy and depositing the backpack into their arms. "Here, brought a present for you. I'm going to get changed. Gotta wash all this dirt off."

Rose quietly folded up the necklace in her palm as Dave jogged up the stairs and out of sight. Roxy opened up the pack and dug around, pushing the unused wires and plastic plates out of the way as they went.

They grinned widely as they pulled their hand out, clutching Vantas' radio. "Oh yeah, I can have fun with this."

\--

After Rose and Roxy stashed the necklace (as well as the documents that went with it) away in some secluded corner of the house, everyone returned to the living room to relax. It was out of sight and out of mind, at least for the night.

Eventually, Dave did come back downstairs, his hair still damp from the shower. He changed into pajamas, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep just yet. The adrenaline hadn’t quite faded from his system, so he was fidgety and tired at the same time. A few hours scrolling aimlessly on his phone might get him to bed eventually, but even then, he didn’t think the sleep would be all that restful.

Dave collapsed onto one of the swivel chairs by the island in the kitchen. The second his ass met the plastic seat, Roxy spoke up, holding out their hands in a plea for attention.

"Alright, everyone here?" They asked, making a show of looking around and individually noting the very few residents that were present. "No one's allowed to settle down yet, because I've been talking to the clock, and he said some mighty interesting things. Like that it might be time for a certain special occasion."

"What special occasion could possibly begin at 3 in the morning?" Rose asked, but she still set down whatever she was reading on her phone to listen.

"Uh, duh, the mission success after-party!" Roxy announced like it was obvious, folding their arms across their chest in a pout. "I've been trying to get you guys to do it with me, but you're always so tired afterwards. If we start now, it can become a tradition! I even got some confetti cake batter so we can make vodka cake."

Both Rose and Dave's eyebrows shot up immediately, intrigued.

"Uh, Rox?" Dirk started, letting the top of the book he was holding rest on his chest, reading forgotten. "Far be it for me to underestimate your math skills, but last time I checked, Dave is still a little short in the years department for fun-juice cake."

"Aw, what?" Dave immediately protested, swiveling in his chair to face Dirk. "I'm the one who went into the Crocker icebox and I don't even get to irresponsibly drink any booze at the after party? Come on, dude."

"We're also missing one of the key components to the mission success after-party. That being the ever-elusive, and yet pretty damn quintessential 'mission success' aspect."

"What are you talking about?" He countered, genuine confusion leaking into his voice. "We got the necklace. Did I fail at some invisible quest or something? Did we only get an 'A' instead of an 'S+'? Oh fuck, bro, now we only get to see my regular thumbs up animation instead of a crazy broken back flip, what a tragedy."

Dirk pushed the book off his chest and sat up. "No, it was pretty much a snafu as soon as you decided to be an idiot. Maybe instead of swooning over Vantas’ manly jawline you could have redirected your eyes to the much more enticing vent in the back of the room. Pretty sure that would have been more productive than your pathetic flirting. At least then you could have avoided getting absolutely bodied. All I'm hearing is that you need a shit ton more practice with hand-to-hand, because Vantas is still a beginner and you almost lost to him." He gave Dave a stern look, eyebrows tight. "Are you really going to reward irresponsible bullshit with more irresponsible bullshit?"

"What the fuck?" Dave protested, starting to get irritated. "I'm gonna get lectured on recklessness by Evil fucking Knievel? Okay, maybe I didn't think he would tackle me like that, but I handled it! I threw him off and everything, it was perfect. I bowled a fucking 300 there."

"If by 'bowled a 300' you mean 'wiggled around like an idiot until he let me go', then you're at the top of the fucking charts, Dave. You're out here carrying the rest of the bowling team on your balding, middle-aged shoulders. Getting your picture taken and put on the ever illustrious and grease-covered wall of the King Pin. Good god, save some fame for the rest of us."

"Come on, man, give me a break. Vantas is built like a fucking tank. I didn't have a whole lot of room to insert your bullshit ninja psyche-out moves. Believe it or not, there's not a whole lot of instances where I can use a spin-kick. Oh shit! Looks like I’m getting charged by a dodge-impaired, punching-bag height goon! Good thing I have plenty of time to set up this specific anime move that my brother made me clock 200 hours into."

Dirk opened his mouth to say something else, but Roxy smoothly interrupted. "Aw, come on Dirk, all we're doing is celebrating the close scrape. It's good to unwind after a harrowing treasure heist, and he's 21 in like, 10 more months. That's nothing. Pocket change. Anyways, it's not like we didn't just commit grand theft and battery." Roxy insisted, diffusing and drawing attention away from the bubbling argument. They stepped over to the kitchen cabinets and rifled through them, the glass bottles inside clinking together noisily. Eventually, they selected and pulled out two bottles of clear vodka, brandishing them. "Besides, nothing gets the adrenaline out of your bloodstream quite like sugar and alcohol. Helps slow everything down and nets you a good night’s sleep."

Dave threw up his hands. "Sounds great to me. We're already breaking a billion laws already, what's a few more? Jesus, get out the eggs and batter and whatever the fuck else goes in a cake. I'm in." He stood and walked over to Roxy, glancing at Dirk as he passed, as though daring his brother to try and stop him.

And he very well might have, if Roxy didn't interrupt him again by putting the bottles down loudly on the countertop and pumping their fists in the air. "Yes, we got one! What about you, Rosie? You can't partake in the divine drink unless you help."

Rose turned her phone off and stood, smoothing out her skirt as she went. "Alright, you've both made a convincing, albeit irresponsible argument for a late night excursion of dipping into the sauce. What you've proposed could be a nice activity to end the night on. Truthfully, though, I'm a little afraid that the two of you alone would make a mess that no one here would be able to clean up."

Rose swept past Dirk and into the kitchen and retrieved what Dave and Roxy would have never thought of; a cookbook. She spread it on the table and started looking for the baked goods section. Dave leaned over the pages as she flipped through them. "Aw yeah, this cake is gonna rule. Being all baked and shit."

"Dirk?" Roxy offered, peeking around Rose.

Dirk handled being outvoted surprisingly well. Or at least, he managed to hide his reaction to it well. At Roxy's proposal to join, he seemed to weigh his options for a second, lips pursed. Dave watched him out of the corner of his eye, wary of any further objections. But eventually, he sighed in concession, probably deciding that it was better than throwing a bigger shit fit, and rolled off the couch. He nudged Roxy out of the way, retrieved a plain white apron out of a tucked-away drawer, and tied it around his waist.

Roxy stared. "We have an apron?"

"Is seeing me wearing the thing not enough to get you to believe that we do, in fact, have one?" He said flatly, gesturing to the garment. Despite the tension still present in the air, Dave stifled a small snort into his shoulder. Dirk looked really stupid with it tied over his casual t-shirt and joggers. As they all settled in to work, Dirk smoothly pretended that he had never objected at all, and the tension eased somewhat.

After the ingredients were sought out or improvised, and spread out on the table, the chaos began. Roxy and Dave were covered in batter and flour from multiple spills nigh instantaneously, and yet Dirk, the only one with the apron, was spotless. Dave found out quickly that flour did not just dust off of clothes. 

Despite Roxy's continued insistence that the time didn't matter, Dave was still a little bit concerned that it took them until 5 in the morning to get it done. A gentle snow flurry had started to fall, turning the dark landscape outside into a cool gray.

While the cake was being frosted, Roxy sauntered up to the table, holding their hands behind their back. With a proud flourish, they presented some dusty old party poppers pilfered from the back of the cabinet, and excitedly handed them out to everyone. When they popped them, Dirk's turned out to be a dud.

As soon as they all settled down at the kitchen table, Roxy cut into the cake, and Dave realized that he'd made a bit of a mistake. It stank to high heaven, and his eyes watered involuntarily, even behind his shades. Someone definitely put way too much vodka in the batter. It reminded him of the familiar smell of rubbing alcohol.

Dirk declined having a piece, and stuck with his orange soda. He watched Dave like a hawk over the rim of the glass, radiating the infuriating 'I-told-you-so' aura. He didn’t even need to say anything. Dave just tried to keep a poker face through it and not gag.

Even though Rose was only a year older than Dave, she didn't even flinch at the smell. She politely accepted the piece of cake and cut small bites with her fork. Reluctantly, Dave followed her example.

As soon as he closed his mouth around the fork, his face screwed up at the unpleasant taste. Despite his attempts to hide it, the immediate disgust was hard to conceal. Yeah, even without the alcohol, it just wasn't a good cake. The only passable part was the pink frosting, which Rose made by actually following the recipe. Dave sucked on his fork long after he had forced the mouthful down, postponing the next bite.

But he couldn't just chicken out, especially with Dirk giving him an expectant look. He plunged the fork back into the slightly-gritty cake and took another bite.

"Hell yeah, Dave! How's it taste?" Roxy cheered, scooping up some frosting onto their fork.

Dave couldn't lie even if he wanted to. "Pretty bad, actually."

"Yeah… I think we fucked it up." Roxy agreed, but they still continued to eat.

\--

"Thank you again for agreeing to be on the show, Ms. Crocker, I know you must have a very hectic schedule."

"Oh, it's no problem at all! I am known to be a busy little bee, but I do need to force a time slot open for things like this every once and awhile. I should really be thanking you for hosting me."

Jane's smile was beaming, even despite the grainy quality that Jake had downloaded the video in. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the plane window as her slightly-compressed voice laughed through his headphones. He knew his sister would be upset with him if he came home and wasn't up-to-date on the situation, so in the airport, he had hurriedly downloaded as many recent interviews, press conferences, and think pieces that she had been on while he was away.

Now that he was actually watching them back-to-back though, he was regretting deleting some of the movies he had stored on the device in order to make room. One or two videos would have sufficed, rather than several hours worth of footage. Jane was starting to repeat herself quite often. Even on top of that, all the interactions seemed really dry. Lamenting his lack of foresight, Jake tried to get more comfortable in the plane seat. It would certainly be a long ride.

"Now, I know that you must be quite tired of hearing this question lately, but please, for the people who haven't been keeping on top of things, who exactly are the Striders?" The reporter twirled her pen between her fingers casually, probably expecting quite a run-of-the-mill interview.

Jane laced her fingers together, bright smile fading somewhat. "Well, I'm afraid there isn't a whole heap of information to relay. They're criminals, plain and simple." She’d repeated the phrase so often at this point that it sounded flat, like cardboard. 

"Of course, but this group in particular seems fixated on your family. How exactly does that make you feel? Does it worry you at all?"

Jane shook her head with a smile, curly black hair bouncing around her cheeks as she did so. "I would sure hope not! I have more than enough faith in our private security team to continue doing their jobs properly. They have worked for us for several years, after all."

The editor of the segment chose this moment to display some photos of the criminals in question. Though they were most likely provided by Jane, or even their mother, the images were very bare-bones. A sequence of an indistinguishable figure in black sprinting across a white tile floor. An obviously zoomed in pixelated image of a person in a black hood, face mask, and eye wear. Another of someone reaching towards the camera with a gloved hand.

"Yes, I do remember hearing about your parents denying police involvement in the case. It was quite the public announcement. You're not concerned about your ability to subdue them without outside assistance?"

"Oh, it really is nothing to kick up such a fuss over. Our team has certainly dealt with a lot worse than some simple theft and destruction of property."

"Destruction of property? This is news to me Ms. Crocker. Could you-" The reporter's voice was cut off from a ping on Jake's phone. The notification box dropped down and cut Jane's closeup in half.

Slightly relieved that he now had an excuse to stop watching the interview, Jake exited the video player and tapped on the message.

JUNE: hi jake!  
JAKE: Ahoy madam!  
JUNE: hm, a speedy response...suspicious.  
JUNE: Are you waiting for your plane or something?  
JAKE: Close but no tobacco! Im already aboard.  
JUNE: jeez you really kick it into high gear when dad asks, huh.  
JAKE: I would venture a theory that accruing enough botherations could get any man off his rump.  
JAKE: And I daresay the lot of you are making quite a fuss up there!  
JUNE: haha, yeah it's so nuts here.  
JAKE: You wouldnt be opposed to expounding on the nature of those nuts would you? I cant make heads or tails of whats really going on at home from Janes dagblasted press jargon.  
JUNE: oh man, you've been watching her interviews?  
JUNE: those are total garbage! shes soooooooo much angrier about all this then she looks.  
JAKE: Oh cripes really?  
JUNE: yeah! i cant talk to her for a second without hearing a lecture on the striders. its all she ever talks about anymore.  
JUNE: she and our parents are so bent out of shape about it lately, they're no fun to be around.  
JUNE: at least karkat is still funny. :B  
JUNE: but really, i'm glad you're coming home. you could do it more often, even when our house isn't getting raided by criminals, you know!

Jake paused for just a second, reading the last line of text over a few times. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the guilt start to seep in. He really wasn't planning on making the trip home at all, but Jake was willing to do a lot of things at his father's request, even cut his extended European backpacking trip short by several months. There was no way that he could tell his sister that was the only reason he was homeward bound, though.

JAKE: Sakes alive june you know i didnt mean anything by it.  
JUNE: yeah, i know.  
JAKE: ...So i take it you’re on Jane’s side with all this flapdoodle thief nonsense then?  
JUNE: not really!  
JUNE: i mean it does kinda suck to have to move all our stuff out of the house when there's a heist notice sent out.  
JUNE: but i think they’re kinda cool…  
JUNE: like a real life spy movie or something.  
JUNE: the other day i got jane to show me the footage we have of them.  
JUNE: they’re totally dressed all in black and have masks on and everything!  
JAKE: While that does sound swell and all i can’t help but be dampened in spirit by the fact that they’re stealing from us!  
JAKE: By jove whats is it a dozen times in a row already?  
JAKE: We are being deliberately targeted here.  
JUNE: oh come on, you know we never use any of that stuff.  
JUNE: and if any of those notes are true, we never really did own any of it in the first place.  
JAKE: Oh, hogwash.  
JUNE: it's true! they send the stuff they steal back to the original owners, and dad never goes after it.  
JUNE: and they haven't ever hurt anybody either.  
JAKE: You know quite well how our father is with the police.  
JAKE: And the lack of maiming during these expeditions does nothing to inspire my confidence in them.  
JAKE: Why at the drop of a hat these curmudgeonly scoundrels could flip the script on our sorry keisters!  
JUNE: yeah, yeah...  
JUNE: jesus you should lay off jane's interviews, you're starting to sound like her.  
JUNE: all sleuthy and doubtful and stuff.  
JUNE: ugh! you even roped me into a conversation about them, just like her!  
JAKE: Phooey to that! Ill have you know im tickled pink to be compared to jane. Shes got a good head on her shoulders.  
JUNE: whatever :P  
JUNE: talk to you when you land, and we'll see if you're finally ready to talk about normal things again.  
JAKE: Sounds ace! See you on the other side. *salutes*

Jake heaved a short sigh, and set his phone down on his lap. Really, he would give just about anything to turn this plane around and return to the streets of Portugal, but he really couldn't ignore a direct summons from his father. He stared out the window and watched the clouds go by for a few minutes to clear his head. And maybe he spent a little longer than was strictly necessary conjuring up fond memories of his interrupted trip. Maybe it was because he had been trying to put it all out of his mind, but after talking to his sister, the real weight of going back home was starting to really bear down on him. By god, just thinking about being a few measly hours from Chicago made him feel as though he'd swallowed a shot put. Suddenly he didn't really want to watch the rest of Jane's interviews. After he quietly deleted them from his phone, and the dread hadn't gone away, he took some further measures and pulled up one of his favorite films on the small screen that was attached to the seat in front of him. And while the deranged antics of Silverman and McCarthy were always a barrel of laughs, Jake continued to be plagued by the uneasy feeling.

He just hoped that maybe the Strider shakeup would mean things would be different this go-round.

\--

Even though it was a warm day for late February, it was freezing outside on the roof of the Lalonde house. Even with the intense workout that was sparring with Dirk, Dave couldn't keep the chill from biting at his exposed skin. If they took it inside, then they could at least avoid the frigid wind, but Rose had expressly banned tussling in the house due to multiple furniture-topplings. So Dirk and Dave waited patiently, and sometimes not-so-patiently for the weather to warm up enough to go outside without thick winter coats.

Of course, when the party was over, and the hangovers were nursed away, Rose and Roxy sided pretty heavily with Dirk concerning the amount of practice that Dave had in hand-to-hand. It stung a little bit to be betrayed like that, but Roxy at least insisted that they were just concerned about Dave's safety, which Dirk also implied, just not in not so many words. 

Fighting with Dirk was always such a chore. He had a knack for pure persistence, and that, coupled with his sudden displays of strength, tended to grate on Dave's nerves. Dirk had been especially fixated on grabs this past week, and he was way stronger than Dave, so it was practically over as soon as he got in close enough to put him in a full nelson. Dave's limbs were longer, though, so he knew the only way to victory was to stay back. He tried to keep a good distance, and jumped back quickly whenever his brother darted in close.

It had been a few hours already, and Dave was really starting to feel the sting of the newly-forming bruises, on top of the dull ache of the fading ones from earlier in the week. Yeah, he was pretty much fed the fuck up with this today, and quite possibly even forever.

Dirk moved in too close again, and Dave lashed out with a pretty weak kick. Immediately punishing the lackluster move, Dirk caught Dave's calf and trapped it between his ribs and his arm. While Dave stumbled, trying to maintain his balance, Dirk swiftly hooked his elbow under Dave's knee. With one twist, Dave was on his back, just barely catching himself from slamming shoulder-first into the ground. Before he could even blink, Dirk had him turned over and in a leglock and jesus _shit_ that hurt.

Dave quickly tapped out, slamming his scratched up palm onto the concrete. "Jesus, uncle, uncle! Fucking uncle!"

Dirk let him go and stepped back, barely concealing his sigh of disappointment. "You understand that felt goons aren't going to practice good sportsmanship, right? They're not going to let go just because you invoke uncle in submission. The point of the exercise here is to try and break the hold, not just avoid it." He kept his tone carefully neutral instead of flippant, probably sensing Dave's mounting frustration and trying to subtly quell it.

Dave stayed on his stomach on the ground for a few more seconds, trying to catch his breath. "Man, I'm so over this. I'm fucking done for today."

"The fuck you are. We've barely made any progress. Come on, get up, try and get out of at least one."

"What's the point anyway? They all have like, actual guns on them. Vantas was an exception, and even he didn't know the fucking...flying chickenshit triple trachea WWA copyrighted hold or whatever the hell. Why would they try and finagle me into a pro wrestler pin when they can just shoot me dead in half the time?" Dave begrudgingly climbed to his feet and brushed the tiny rocks off his knees and elbows. "Fuck this, I'm going inside."

When he tried to walk past to the door, Dirk blocked him off, shoulders squared in another fighting stance. Dave threw his hands up, exasperated. "Come on, man."

"Just one hold Dave, then we're done."

Dirk moved in close again, concrete scraping under his heel, and snatched a hold of Dave's wrist with his left hand before the younger had the chance to move away. Without missing a beat, he swiveled the arm and pulled back and oh fuck no, Dave was not going to be put in another wrist lock. It was a simple move, granted. But his shoulder was still sore from all the twisting it was put through last week.

Before Dirk could press the palm of his hand into Dave's shoulder and complete the textbook wrist lock, Dave twisted the hand already in Dirk's grip. He flipped the hold and grabbed Dirk's hand. Maybe if he was fast enough, he could put Dirk into a wristlock of his own. But when he twisted his brother's wrist slightly to the left, Dirk immediately crumpled. His knees buckled. And he let out such a genuine sound of pain that it made cold guilt and alarm immediately flood through Dave's system. Realizing the mistake, Dave let go immediately, putting both hands up. Dirk shuffled backwards, cradling the wrist.

Shit, he forgot it was that wrist.

The two stared at each other for a minute, expressions tight, but schooled. Dirk eventually broke the stalemate and shook his hand out. "Targeting my weak points isn't going to do anything for you."

Dave heaved out a breath he was holding, and rubbed at the back of his neck. "...Yeah, I know. Sorry, man."

"Whatever. We'll pick up again tomorrow."

Dave sheepishly walked past his brother, but at the last second, Dirk caught his shoulder gently. "Hey." Dave stopped and looked at him. This close, he could see the outline of Dirk's eyes behind his shades. "Next heist is a team mission. Probably going to avoid solo mission's for a while."

If Dave wasn't crazy, he thought he sensed a little bit of an...apology in his brother's voice. He might not have been able to catch it if he hadn't known Dirk his whole life, but after he noticed, he was sure that it was there."Yeah, okay." he said simply, and Dirk let him go. And just like that, the air cleared a little bit.

Before Dave descended, he paused on the first step, and turned back to where Dirk was gearing up to start what was probably a lengthy Taekwondo form. "Dude, you are stretching that wrist...right?" He had his doubts, but he needed to know.

Dirk hummed noncommittally in response, and Dave had his answer. His brother really did have a lot of nerve lecturing him about responsibility. Dave rolled his eyes and descended.

At the base of the stairs, Dave found Roxy sprawled out on the couch, limbs askew, eating a torn-open bag of chips with one hand, and typing with the other.

"Yo, Rox." Dave greets, as he toed off his shoes on his way over to the couch.

Roxy tilted their head over the back of the couch and grinned when they saw him. "Hey, buddy. Done with the sparing sesh?"

"Yeah, I guess." Dave conceded, then quickly changed the subject. "You working on the next thingamajig? When's that gonna be, by the way? Any kind of heads up or ETA? Do you and Rose section out the time zones for the planning out part or something? Seems like something she would do."

"Easy, tiger." Roxy quelled Dave's rambling with a placating gesture. "You shouldn't be so eager to put your sorry butt on the line. Gotta ration those cans of whoop-ass, or we're gonna run out again." Roxy went back to tapping at their keyboard with both hands, bringing up and minimizing a few dozen windows, including a colored correspondence with Rose.

"God, for the last time, I didn't get my ass kicked. At the very least, it was a pretty mutual tie, though I still think you all are really selling my sweet moves short." Dave leaned over the back of the couch on his elbows, and ignored the burn in his shoulders that came from the action.

Roxy snorted. "Yeah alright, whatever, big man. But even if you didn't put the moves on Vantas, we still need to hold off for a little longer than normal this time. Besides the usual aftercare, like sending the treasure home, cleaning up our tracks, and making super duper sure we didn't slip up and get tailed or something, Rosie is busy for the next few weeks. She does half the pre-show research, so we can't really start without her, yanno?"

"Damn, what the hell is she doing now that's more important than grand larceny?"

Roxy shrugged. "One of those lil' fancy pants ballroom party events she got invited to. She said she had to go to this one and talk about her next book to keep the investors hyped for it. I know you think it's kinda lame, but think of it this way; the less money she gets for that book, the less apple juice we can keep the fridge stocked with."

"Pretty fucking cold move there, AJ is like, the full base on the hierarchy of needs. You cut that shit out and you can't build the rest of the damn pyramid. How are you gonna self-actualize now, dogg?"

Roxy snickered, typing out a quick response to their sister before tabbing away. "Anyway, that's the current low down on the next hoe down. We're taking a lil' month-long breather."

"Alright, I guess I'll outsource this decision. Send it all the way overseas to Ro-lal isle. My services are now at the mercy of your wily whims."

"Yeah, that's right buster. It's good that you remember who the real backbone of this organization is." Roxy dramatically lifted their hand and pointed down at themselves. "This super sexy cat burglar haxxor right here. Master of all illegal arts." Roxy returned to the keyboard, and pulled up a few blurry images. "Speaking of my skills, I haven't been totally sleeping on reconnaissance lately. I just heard from a little birdie - and by little birdie, I mean a wellspring of highly secured and highly personal information - that one of the Witch's kids is back from overseas."

Roxy zoomed in on one of the images. On top of being bad quality, It was really off center, and Dave wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be looking for at first. All he could see was what seemed to be still images from an airport security camera.

Roxy fiddled around with the pictures until they were in focus and centered on a group of people. Dave leaned forward to see. Roxy circled their mouse around a specific man with a rolling suitcase and a backpack. "That's him right there." They said, flipping through the images like a slideshow. "Jake English, kept his dad's name instead of the Witch's. I guess he got called back or somethin’, but he sure took his sweet time coming home in an emergency."

The pictures flipped from Jake walking towards the airport exit, to him stopping and throwing his arms out, to him embracing a small group of people. Roxy zoomed in a little bit more on the next photo, enough that the pixels that made up the man's head could be discerned as facial features. Facial features that were forming a very toothy smile. It suited him. He had the sort of face that looked best with a wide smile. "I guess Daddy English and the Witch couldn't make it or somethin’, but those are his three sisters with him." Roxy explained, tapping the screen with a pink-painted nail. In that specific photo he was giving one of them a huge bear hug, lifting her feet off the ground. "You already know Janey, but the other two stay out of sight mostly." Dave hummed in acknowledgement, while Roxy flipped through a few more pictures.

Of course, Dirk chose that moment to come down the stairs and kick off his shoes. He looked at the two on the couch curiously, wiping sweat from his jaw with a small towel draped over his shoulders.

"Hey Dirk, just going over some reconnaissance stuff, wanna join?" Roxy greeted, waving Dirk over.

"Ogling those pictures of Jake again, you mean?" Dirk shook his head and made for the fridge instead, rifling around for something that was not at all appropriate for a post-workout drink.

"You know me too well." Roxy confirmed, mousing a little heart over the smiling face on the screen, and Dave grimaced, not really wanting to be associated with any ogling. They propped their chin up in their palm as Dirk closed the fridge and walked over. "Give me some credit, though. Even you think he's dreamy."

Dirk settled down on the arm of the couch and took a measured sip of his soda. "Have you shown Rose these pictures yet? She's the one who needs to see them most."

Roxy wisely ignored Dirk dodging the question, and continued to lazily cycle through the images. "She can see them when she gets back. Don't want her opening up any image files on her phone during the party." They sat up and stretched their hands above their head, fingers laced and knuckles popping. "Anyway, now that you're back, you wanna get started on the next heist note? I want to do somethin’ special this time."

Dave groaned immediately. "You mean the 'make my job harder' note? Fuck that shit. Why do we write those, anyway?"

Roxy wagged their finger. "So naive, my young apprentice. It's for the public opinion points, obviously. Telling everyone our reasoning makes us less scary, gives the people a chance to agree with us." They leaned back like that explained everything. "It's been working, too. BCC started going public with the notices, Janey's interviews are helping to spread the word. People online are taking our side. Maybe someday we'll have a nice little crowd outside the heist buildings, or even some help from pedestrians if we're in a tight spot, you never know. It can't hurt to let everyone know what we're doing."

Dave shrugged and stood up straight. "Still not totally sure I get it."

Dirk patted Dave's shoulder condescendingly before he settled down next to Roxy on the couch. "You don't need to get it. You just need to not get caught, that's all."

Dave rolled his eyes and walked off, while Roxy launched into their spiel. "Okay, so. You know how Jane is always saying she likes a good riddle? I want to do something that will keep her on her toes."

\--

Every time he visited the BCC exhibit hall, it was for the first time. Jake marveled at the layout as he walked slowly through the open space. The atrium at the top floor of the exhibit building was under constant renovation. When they switched exhibits to display, they really went all out, changed the decor, and sometimes even the layout of the building in order to promote some of the frankly absurd things in their collection. Jake had seen the central art piece plastered all over the posters, but the statue titled 'The Whims of a Maiden' had yet to be pulled from the vault for obvious safety reasons. The space still looked beautiful without it, though.

The vaulted ceilings and walls were painted a dark, dreary color and the curtains were made of thick, black velvet that blocked out all light except the sunshine coming in from the skylight. The spattering of black roses and long gray rugs that spread across the glossy floor gave the room a quiet, gloomy feeling, like an upscale funeral parlor. The place was still closed down right now, and the hollow silence echoed even when there wasn't any noise being made, like a pressure against Jake's ears. He had never been one for the quiet, and though he admired the decoration and artworks on display, the stillness of the atmosphere really unnerved him.

A heavy hand clapped down on Jake's shoulder suddenly. He flinched with his whole body, and sucked in a shocked breath, but then relaxed a bit when low laughter rang out from the person behind him. Oh, it was just his father. Jake turned to face him, an awkward smile pulling at his lips. English grinned back down at him, lips tight against his teeth like they were straining to break free. For some reason Jake still hadn't pinned down, his dad got a real kick out of sneaking around and spooking him.

"Checking out the new space, huh, boy?" He boomed, his loud voice echoing in the atrium. It was a bold contrast to how quiet it was before, and the change almost made Jake wince.

"Sure am. Gotta say, they did a real doozy of a job this time around." Jake ventured. He wasn't sure why. His dad never wanted to chew the fat. "Whatever artifact they're going to display here is going to have a tough time outshining this ornamentation."

His father grunted in acknowledgment, moss green eyes giving the room an almost lazy once-over. He stepped away from Jake and further into the room. His false leg made a louder sound on the floor than the other, and it gave his footsteps an off-beat rhythm. He stopped at the center and dusted a hand over a wide, empty marble pedestal in the center. "If it even gets the chance to be displayed."

Jake followed him, approaching the small circle of sunlight that did all the work of illuminating the room while the lights were out. English paused briefly before continuing. "The next heist note came in today."

Jake wasn't sure exactly how to feel at the news. It was what he was really here for, after all. His heart definitely leapt, but whether it was in fear or excitement he wasn't sure.

When Jake didn't respond, his father continued. "It took those bastards a lot longer than usual to chime in. I was almost considering putting off the exhibit if it didn't come in time." He reached into his overcoat and recovered a small card, holding it out for Jake. He curiously took it. "It came in a little riddle this time. Guess that's what took them so damn long."

The card was typed out neatly, black on white, letters uniform, text centered.

_Taken from her lovely Emma, the lonely maiden weeps  
On her whim, we will spirit her away to the nearest star,  
During the eve of its tantrum, while Quebec counted sheep  
Say Hello to the Girls and G.W. Croy,  
When your lines are crossed by a mysterious boy. <3_

Jake flipped the card over, but there was nothing on the back that was offered as an explanation to the strange note. He ran a hand through his hair, reading over the text again. "Well, golly." Jake gave a short, nervous laugh. "I have to say I can't make heads or blasted tails of this prose."

Before he could puzzle it out any longer, English plucked the card from his hands and pocketed it once more. "That's what I figured. Just like them to pull some doublespeak bullshit so close to the exhibition." He growled, suddenly frustrated. Jake stepped aside as his father turned and headed back to the entrance. "They must need to use dirty tactics to keep pulling one over on us."

He suddenly paused his ranting, hand resting on the large door frame. He turned back to his son. "Jake, we're going to go public again with this note. It will continue to damage our reputation the longer we let it go on. It's vital that we catch those fucking thieves this time, okay?" Jake nodded; not having anything else to say, and English smiled. He smiled so wide that Jake could see his gold tooth sparkle, even in the low light. "Good." And with that word, he left, uneven footsteps retreating down the hall.

Jake relaxed just a bit and turned back to the decorations. He wasn't done looking around, but he suddenly didn't feel like exploring the space any longer. He glanced at the hanging pieces on the wall, but the wonder of the room seemed old hat now. Jake sighed and turned on his heel to leave, and he ran headlong into his sister.

"Oh! Heavens, Jake!" Jane exclaimed, stumbling from where she had been about to tap her brother on the shoulder.

Jake jumped back at the spook, his second for the day. "Land sakes alive!" he cried, huffing indignantly, "Can't anyone make any noise when they're coming up behind you anymore?"

Jane laid a hand over her chest as though she needed to settle her heart, and smiled wearily. "Well, I'm sorry about that. I just didn't expect you to be so jumpy! We're all finished up checking up on things in here, and we’re about to leave. I wanted to let you know."

Jake settled his ruffled feathers, feeling a little bit bad for raising his voice. Jane really had a knack for making people feel guilty. "Oh, alright then. I was just about to fly the coop myself, if you'd like to walk with me."

"I'd be delighted." She answered, doing a small curtsy.

As they left the room, Jake couldn't help but think about Jane's timing. She'd missed his father by mere moments. It could be a coincidence, but it was just as likely that Jane had seen English, and had waited for him to leave in order to avoid a confrontation. Even after their parents married, Jane was never really all that comfortable with his father, nor he with her mother. He supposed it was fair to try and avoid English, though. The man seemed to exude a pressure that set people on edge. Even Jake wasn't completely immune to it.

"By the way, Jake." She spoke up from beside him, thankfully snapping Jake out of his thoughts."I don't know if you've heard the news recently...about the new heist notice. It's so strange."

Glad for the distraction, Jake watched as she pulled out her phone and tapped through it. "I just heard, yes. Though I can't make any sense of the flowery language."

She laughed lightly. "Of course. No one's totally figured it out yet! It's a riddle, silly. The information is hidden this time, instead of just being out in the open. The solution to the riddle has to be the usual information. Time, place, method, all that stuff." She pulled it up and held out her phone screen for Jake to see. "Here, if you have any ideas, I'd like to pick your brain." Jake took the offered phone and gave the note another read-through while Jane pressed the ground floor button for the elevator.

Yeah, there was still no way he knew what any of that meant. There wasn't a single time, place, or method mentioned anywhere in there. He shook his head and handed it back to Jane as they stepped inside the well-lit elevator and started the long descent. "Still utterly inscrutable, sorry. You know how I am with riddles."

Jane looked disappointed, deflating a little bit, but took the phone back. She read over the text again herself, pushing a piece of hair out of her face as she did so. "I think I have a little bit of it figured out, at least. This part here, the third line." She tilted the phone and pointed. "The part about Quebec counting sheep, and the star's tantrum? I did a quick search, and it's probably in reference to a blackout that happened in Quebec because of a solar storm." She exited out of the picture of the note and pulled up her search. "See here? it happened on March 13th, 1989. If they're talking about the eve of the blackout, then that makes the date March 12th." She paused for a second, as though really listening to her theory for the first time. "I think."

Jake whistled, impressed. "Bravo, Jane! That sounds like a pretty bang up start to me."

She screwed up her mouth at the praise, as though it did the opposite of encourage her. "But it's only about a week away, and I can't understand anything else about it. The rest of it seems like complete claptrap nonsense! Why reference blackouts in the first place? And what does it have to do with the rest of this?" She sighed and tucked her phone away, folding her arms tightly against her chest. "Phooey, I know they're just doing this because I told them I liked a good puzzle in those interviews. They're definitely making fun of me."

"Hey now, it's not so bad!" Jake tried to reassure her, sensing the decline in her mood. "You're a pretty first-rate slueth, making progress already. I'm sure you can work out the solution before time runs out, there's no use in giving up now."

Jane wiped the frustration from her face eerily fast, and schooled her expression. After she composed herself, she turned and gave him a small smile. "No, no, you're right. Look at me, getting all worked up over such a silly little thing. You always do so well cheering me up, though." Just before the elevator hit the bottom floor, Jane turned and gave her brother a quick hug. Jane's hugs were always short, just a quick squeeze, like a handshake. "But Jake, I'd really appreciate it if you would come to the next heist with me. I wanted to oversee it personally and make sure nothing goes wrong. It would be nice if you could lend me a bit of a hand?"

Jake tried not to show his slight hesitation. He knew that Jane had been withholding asking him about attending for a while, and had been waiting for the right moment. She was dead set on including him in this heist nonsense, after all. He had a brief, shrewd thought that perhaps Jane wanted to share the responsibility, (and therefore the blame) a little bit with him. Now that he was home, she didn't have to shoulder it all herself. He quickly buried the thought before it could show on his face. Nothing good could come of letting it surface. "Sounds like a capital cabal, Jane, I wouldn't dream of missing it."

She broke out into a warm smile that almost eased his worries away. The elevator door opened with a soft 'ding', and she led him out into the wide lobby. "Good to hear. Now come on, let's forward this notice to Jade and June. At least one of us has to be good at riddles in this family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order to authentically re-create the atmosphere of a phantom thief AU, there needed to be at least 1 riddle. Plus, I just wanted to try my hand at it. It doesn't need to be solved, but I would be ecstatic to see anyone try!
> 
> There's more [art](https://www.instagram.com/p/CCFGP1hhQUh/) up on my [insta](https://www.instagram.com/karcutie/), as well as some lovely [fanart](https://clown-energy.tumblr.com/post/621218054376964096/i-wanted-to-draw-the-really-gr8-strilonde-designs) from a friend on discord! Thanks again for reading, I really appreciate it.


	3. Hello, Operator? My Wires Got Crossed With A Cute Boy…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gearing up for another heist boys, strap in!
> 
> Special thanks again to [Gummie88]() for the beta read! It takes a lot of work to remove the foolishness from my writing lol

"I've always wondered if there was some way we could practice these moves we write down." Dave murmured, coiling a length of thin rope between his practiced hands as he spoke. "Like it's all theoretical until we actually do it. Then we have to pull it off perfectly. There's really just one shot at this whole operation. It's like, when you die in a video game, instead of just hitting retry, you have to eject the disk and smash it with a mallet. Fucking death sentence for a newbie, but a speed runner? No damn problem with it. Yeah, I'll just tear this whole game apart, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?"

Dave had taken the day to scour the house for equipment that he knew he was going to need for the next mission. Rope, concussion grenades, his lock picking kit; just the basics that he thought of off the top of his head. Whatever he forgot then he could grab during the last few days leading up to the heist. 

Even though it had been over an entire month since the last mission, his siblings still seemed hesitant about sending Dave back out so quickly after the last scrape. He knew they were just being protective, but maybe it was edging a little bit into overprotective. He couldn’t lie, it hurt a little bit knowing that they didn’t have faith in his ability to weasel out of a tough situation. 

Though despite the frustration at being coddled, it felt nice sometimes. It definitely beat out what he had to deal with before. Really, being the youngest in his new makeshift family was a major upgrade, and when he stopped to really think about it, being fussed over wasn't all that bad.

Dave would rather die then mention any of those thoughts out loud, though.

"Dave, what are you mumbling about? You'll need to speak up if you're talking to me from over there." Rose chided from across the room. She had all her equipment laid out on the table in front of her, and was carefully slotting everything into place in her backpack. Unlike Dave, she always made a list.

"No, never mind." Dave said, quickly realizing that he'd been rambling to himself. He quietly tied off the length of rope and set it aside, hoping that Rose wouldn’t mention the blush he could feel creeping onto his face.

It was just going to be Dave and Rose in the field this time. Usually, if they were feeling cautious, they would send in a team of three, but Roxy needed to play support again. They didn’t like it, but the plan called for too much tech finagling for anyone else to handle. For similar reasons, Dirk was also needed as support. Dave and Rose were only a little better than cavemen with computers, so he was pigeonholed into backup for Roxy.

And that was for the best. After a few notably disastrous heists with Dirk and Rose in the field at the same time, it became obvious that their brands of reckless idiocy were multiplicative. Dave and Rose had a tendency to cover each other's weaknesses, so together, they would be the safest bet for a complicated mission like this.

"Hey, Dave." Roxy called from the couch, voice plastered obscenely with fake innocence. "Can I see your fancy shades for a second?" They held out their hand pleadingly. Next to Roxy, Dirk was fixated on the laptop sitting between them, watching it carefully like it might jump to life at any moment. 

"Uh, yeah, hold on." Dave held up a finger and dug around in his pack for the hands-free eye wear.

Rose wasn't as willing to let that suspicious tone slide. "What exactly are you two doing over there? Would you mind sharing with the rest of the class?"

"Nothin much." Roxy stuck their tongue out, and quickly swiped the shades when Dave offered them up. They pulled out the smallest wire Dave had ever seen and plugged them in to the pink laptop. "This is packing day, so I'm just gettin everybody equipped with our new project while we're at it."

At this, Rose nodded knowingly, folding her arms. "Ah, I see. You and Dirk's mysterious 'project' collaboration that you have been deliberately cagey about. Forgive me, but I'd just assumed that you'd refused to share information in order to get Dave and I enthralled by the mystery."

"Well, I mean yeah, that's part of it." Roxy admitted, tapping at the keyboard lethargically. "But I also didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. It would really be a major bummer if we made up all this hype and it didn't work."

"Everything works fine." Dirk assured, with all the warmth and support that he could probably muster, which wasn't much.

"I know that now." Roxy said back, elbowing him. "Speaking of, why don't you both take a break and get to know our little pet project."

Roxy unplugged the sunglasses from the computer and set them aside, pulling up a pure white text window instead. Dave and Rose looked at each other briefly, then huddled in and leaned over the back of the couch to see what Roxy was doing. "This is our little baby, and he's gonna streamline our missions."

"He?" Dave leaned in and squinted at the screen.

Red text flashed across the window, completely unprompted, and rapid-fire.

AR: Yo.  
AR: Oh, wait.  
AR: Is this the part where I'm supposed to say "Hello World", or some other vapid jaw-droppingly obvious reference to key everyone in to the fact that I am not flesh and blood.  
AR: Just a little quip to let everyone know that every facet of my being resides entirely within the parameters of this hard drive, with enough subtlety to land short of just fucking explaining it out loud.  
AR: Shit, bromine, one more inch to the left and you would have won the clarity Olympics.

"What the fuck?" Dave retreated and leaned back a little after reading the text. He scanned it again to see if it made any more sense the second time. Rose did just the opposite. She leaned in closer, intrigued.

AR: It seems like homeboy is looking a little off-kilter back there.  
AR: I get it, you totally thought that the sentient A.I. revolution would take a few more years to begin, at least. This wheelhouse looks like it's gonna be running down a pretty slippery slope though, gotta say. Better get those safety regulations in place, stat.

"Isn't he the cutest?" Roxy cooed, petting the top of the laptop. Dirk wore a faint, but fond smile as he read over the text, almost like he was proud.

"I'm not sure that is the best word to describe what you two seem to have done here." Rose replied, thoughtfully thumbing her bottom lip.

"What...is going on? I thought this messenger was a secure channel. Who is that?" Dave finally asked, sensing that no one was intending to completely explain the situation unless prompted.

"Though the subject in question has neglected to offer a solid explanation in lieu of a roundabout one, I can make a few extrapolations, regardless. Sorting through aloof personas has become a bit of a specialty of mine, after all." Rose said, taking up the mantle. "If I'm guessing correctly, it seems like you two have created a program that not only simulates human speech patterns, but can also somehow 'see' and 'hear' what we are doing. Is this assumption correct?"

AR: I'll try not to take offense to certain parts of that statement and just push what is generally considered a noninflammatory and neutral statement that hits all the delicious synapses on my human speech pattern simulator.  
AR: Close enough, bro.

"Oh, I'm sorry to have offended." Rose apologized, bizarrely. She clearly was not expecting that hostile response, but still managed to remain relatively unfazed.

AR: It's fine.

"It's kind of close to what Rose just said." Dirk began, eyes very closely tracking the scrawl of red text. "AR doesn't just simulate speech. He's complex enough that his algorithmic functions can be considered 'thought' at this point. At least on this laptop, he has access to the microphone and the camera feed. He becomes more complex the longer we talk with him, as well. It's just been Rox and I so far, so we would really appreciate it if you two would take up the initiative and engage with him too."

"Just talk to him normally. Think of him like...a new family member." Roxy added. "We're gonna add some stuff on your shades and your phones so that he can connect to them and ping you. It's really not fair to keep him cooped up in my laptop any longer."

"Not that I'm not completely sold on and stoked for your digital son, but what exactly does this have to do with the missions?" Dave spoke up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

AR: You mean besides the whole 'living in a computer' thing, bro?  
AR: By definition of the gig I have immediate access to a shit ton of metadata that would usually take a whole 5 seconds on google to find.  
AR: Not that I was implying that any of ya'll have the luxury of using google, or even any corner of the web to analyze your extremely covert and very incriminating documents and photos.  
AR: In which case, you'd need some kind of hacker genius that can poke around in files that don't have it immediately accessible through the confusing jumble of boxes and buttons that constitute the dreaded and quite limiting user interface.  
AR: But that's why you need a machine.

Dirk's small smile had dissipated and he seemed to be gradually weaning off of the 'proud that he created something amazing' mood, and rapidly into the 'maybe this was a mistake' mood.

"I'm still a bit unsure about the practical usage for such an ability. What do you mean by metadata?" Rose asked.

AR: Data for your fucking data.  
AR: Times, Dates, locations, websites, history tracking, all kinds of stuff can be covertly attached to photos, videos, and even text files. Just basic numbers that computers pin on to keep track of shit and be gracious to other computers when transferring all that garbage.  
AR: If your thoughts haven't already expounded on my innate ability to fuck with both these, and the actual data that falls within my grasp as I desire, then let me lay some sick nutshells out on the table for you.  
AR: Anything that can be considered software is basically mine to fuck with. Hardware has some limitations, but for the most part, you can't have hardware sans software anymore. So that's under my boot too.  
AR: My reach extends across the entirety of the very-quantifiable world wide web. So much so that I could probably seek out a specific piece of data, pluck it from where it's curled up in it's little data blanket, and bring it back like a cat bringing home a rodent that isn't quite dead.  
AR: Ya'll want some bitcoin?

Dave finally cracked a smile, and Roxy laughed. Dirk grimaced. "Please don't encourage this."

"Well, there's no way that he's not coming with us on the heist." Roxy replied, their tone of voice implying that they would absolutely continue to encourage this.

"Obviously, since you uploaded him to my shades." Dave pointed out, fiddling with the glasses in his hands.

"It's baby's first crime." Roxy wiped an imaginary tear from their eye.

AR: Hell fucking yes.

\--

Even though he hadn't shown many noticeable cracks, Karkat was radiating anxious energy. It simmered in the edge of his voice and thrummed off of his tense muscles. It was in the way he held his arms too close to his chest when he folded them. It was the way he tapped his foot too hard on the linoleum. It was the way he couldn't stand still and wait for a second before checking something or calling someone.

Jake kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, and at this point Karkat had to have noticed it, but he didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't want to engage with Jake, and honestly, Jake was okay with that. He had never really known how to interact with the man on an amicable level.

No one could really blame Karkat, though. Everyone was really starting to feel the pressure now. Each new note that was released publicly got more and more attention. The press was eager to rally everyone into a media frenzy for easy viewership, and of course, this one had been no different. Just as English had said, the bigger it got, the more there was at stake. That time around, he seemed to have gotten tired of waiting, and had encouraged Jane to discuss the riddle on the card with the media. It put more attention on the heist than usual. An act of hubris, maybe? 

Even though the last incident was contained to their home, it was still public knowledge that they failed to stop the theft. And being unable to defend home base was pretty disastrous. It was no secret that English had reach, that he had a good chunk of the city under his thumb. He controlled the Felt, and was connected to CrockerCorp through Jane's mother. Being outsmarted by such a small rag-tag group like the Striders was really starting to grind some teeth, especially considering that no one had yet gotten hurt during one of these heists. The thieves were kind enough to send an RSVP notice each time, so it wasn't even a matter of being outgunned, just purely outmatched.

Now that all the chips were down again, people were tensely waiting to see who would lose the hand.

Jake glanced to his left again, where Jane was just finishing up a conversation with Karkat. Neither had made a move to include him, even though his sister had insisted he attend. Though, Jake was a little relieved that he didn't need to be so involved. As the newest attendee, he had no idea how things normally worked. Besides, they both had stony expressions on, like they were forcing themselves to talk business only.

Jane waved a curt goodbye and walked over to talk to some of the guards near the statue. To her credit, Jane was doing her best to sweeten things with the press to try and keep BCC in a good light, but if this kept up for much longer, then she would start slipping.

Karkat, on the other hand, had the very real potential to be a scapegoat should things continue to spiral. So far, with nothing but pure bravado and media street-smarts, he seemed to have escaped most of the ire. But Jake didn't know how much longer he could pull the 'no comment' card and still get away with it. It was a double-edged sword, too. Karkat hadn't made any impression on the public at all, so if he were to disappear suddenly, it wouldn't raise too much of a fuss. There was no way that he didn't know about the precariousness of his position, he was just hiding it well. Karkat seemed to be very practiced at being closed off and jaded, but in the end he may have just been wondering what he would do if he was ever called in to the Felt manor alone at night.

Jake shuddered and tried to think of something else, anything else. Goddammit, they had work to do. He didn't have time to fall head-over-ass down a dark memory hole. It was hard to tear his mind away, but he was getting practiced at blocking that shit out. Even so, it still seemed like there were things that even years of therapy and self-indulgent overseas trips couldn't bleach out of his brain.

Jake scrubbed some more jet-lag drowsiness out of his eyes. He really wished he were in Venice.

Nothing was going to go wrong this time, he tried to reassure himself. They had a stake in this heist, chips were on the table. It was going to be fine, he just needed to stay optimistic. He checked his watch. 20 til midnight.

If it had been a normal, Strider-free night, then the atrium would have been abandoned. Spotless as well as lifeless, and preparing to receive visitors to the exhibit in the morning at 6 AM sharp. As it was now, it was practically swarming with light and people. The fluorescent lights weren't able to penetrate far beyond the darkness past the windows, but they did a fine job of illuminating the space. Guards circled loosely around potential entrances and exits, and only a few stood around the pedestal in the middle, which finally was able to hold the prize of the evening.

The statue in question, 'Whims of a Maiden', was striking, even from a distance. It depicted quite simply, a woman's head and shoulders, as she covered her face and wept into her hands. It was a little larger than life size, and the white marble cut a distinct silhouette, especially against the black decorations in the room. Jake hadn't read up on it, but the statue seemed difficult to lift, and hopefully, by proxy, difficult to steal. 

"Was there anything in the riddle about a specific time?" June asked innocently, popping up suddenly beside Karkat. Because of course, as soon as June found out Jake had been coerced into attending the heist, she had to be there as well. And Jade hated being left out of things, so she tagged along with her sister, too. Contrary to this, the twins had gotten sick of waiting around since the early afternoon, and had decided to do a cursory patrol around the building. Even that hadn't been enough of a distraction, though, and they were back to twiddling their thumbs around in the atrium with everyone else.

"I mean, the blackout in Quebec was at nighttime, but that's really the only thing we can go on." Jade answered, walking past the two of them to stand next to Jake.

"That's already obvious, though, even without the note. Why would they steal something in the daytime, Jade? Sounds pretty lame."

Karkat immediately grimaced, which was frankly an improvement from the stony-faced expression he kept up in his conversation with Jane. "Fuck if I know, maybe someday they'll suddenly have a change of heart and decide to make my job easier." He grumbled. Having his attention drawn away from the center of the room, he relaxed just a little. Karkat always seemed more comfortable when he had someone to talk to. Or at.

"You excited?" Jade stage-whispered to Jake. She completely tuned out Karkat and June's conversation, cupping her hand around her mouth conspiratorially.

Jake ran a tired hand through his hair. "I...suppose that adjective is right and proper enough." He answered without much gusto.

"What, why? What's wrong?" Jade's mischievous smile dropped and she suddenly looked a bit concerned. Jake really hoped that he didn't sound that down-and-out. It would have to be bad if he was considering pushing any of these concerns onto his little sister.

It wasn't just one thing that had Jake's gut twisting. It was several things, folding over each other and blending together to make a nervous smoothie. It was the uncomfortable memories that kept surfacing suddenly, then fading to the back of his brain again, ready to pop out at a moment's notice. The anxiety of being back in his childhood city, the almost-forgotten pressure of his parents hanging over him, the mournful longing of the peace he felt overseas, even if just for a few months.

"Just feeling like a fish-out-of-water, mostly." Jake lied, trying to hold back the downtrodden tone in his voice this time. "Getting here right in the middle of everything, I feel as though I'm the only one who doesn't have a darn clue what to expect. I just wish the dang blasted heist hadn't been scheduled so soon after my return."

"I'll be sure to forward your complaints to them when they get here." Jade relaxed and rolled on the balls of her feet, probably relieved that Jake didn't bring up anything serious.

Her cheerful tone managed to relax Jake a bit, at least. "Thank you, Jade. I'm certain they have a spare minute or two to listen if they have time enough for this buffoonery." Jake crossed his arms and checked his watch again. It was almost midnight. He tried not to worry over the significance of the time. "Say, Jade." He started, clearing his throat. "Not to broach a touchy topic, but you've been a bit tight-lipped on your opinion concerning all this."

"Oh, Jake." Jade kicked at the ground, scuffing the black linoleum with the toe of her white sneaker. "Don't you start now, too."

"Start what?" Jake replied, genuinely confused.

"The 'who's on who's side' nonsense. It's silly. Jane just won't let it drop."

"She hasn't?" Jake asked, genuinely confused. He'd been home for a little over 2 weeks, and Jane hadn't even broached the topic of how he felt about all this thief business.

Jade stuck out her tongue playfully. "Well, of course she hasn't grilled you about it. She knows you're already on her side!"

That gave Jake some pause. He opened his mouth to form a reply, then closed it when he had nothing to say. Did she really? Granted, Jake had done his best to give her words of encouragement when she'd seemed upset, but was that really substitute for agreeing with her wholeheartedly? Cheese and fucking crackers, she hadn't even asked.

When her brother was silent, Jade's smile dimmed slightly. "...Aren't you?"

"Hard to make a call Jade. I have to say that I'm not entirely sold on their idea of rectitude via vigilantism. This whole dag nab rigamarole could give any man a heap of headaches."

"So you don’t like them?"

"Wouldn't go that far, no." Jake backpedaled a little bit at the definitive statement. "I mean, cripes Jade, it's not as though anyone has gotten hurt. The modus operandi might get on one's wick, but if I were a little more off-kilter I might say that they just want to play a game with us."

Jade grimaced. "Well, that part doesn't bother me, but just because no one has been hurt yet doesn't mean-"

She was cut off suddenly by a loud shout, and everyone's head whipped suddenly towards the center of the room.

Jake turned just in time to see a figure in black touch down on the pedestal. They landed gracefully, knees bent and balanced, cape following their descent and swishing behind them. Then they straightened up and surveyed the room with a quick head swivel, hand on their hip, one foot planted on the head of the marble statue, the other framed it on the base. The picture of bravado.

The first shout echoed in the wide space, and as soon as others spotted the figure, they yelled in surprise as well, and that set off a chain reaction of cacophony. If it was their goal to draw attention with that drop-down entrance, then all eyes were on them now.

Jake blinked in surprise, body freezing up. He quickly glanced up where the thief had dropped from, and spotted an open, hinged panel in the skylight. An incredibly direct move, dropping down right on top of the prize, as well as a seemingly inane one. They were utterly trapped, now. What the hell was going on? Were they turning themselves in?

For a second, no one really knew what to do. Like Jake, they were all frozen in place. This was not how anyone had expected this confrontation to go. Should they shoot? But why would they? The thief had already cornered themselves. Thus far, the heists had been pulled off fairly innocuously. Everyone in the room was on the lookout to catch a glimpse of one in the shadows of the room. Several times that evening, someone had pulled some curtains aside because they had fluttered oddly. They'd been waiting for hours, tense, ready for an insidious plot to unfold. But then when someone dropped from the sky, it changed the circumstances.

While everyone gaped, the thief adjusted their footing on the statue, and scanned the room more slowly, until their face finally met Karkat's. Their expression was unreadable due to the dark shades and the face mask, so it was unclear if they were looking at Karkat, or if they just had their head turned that way. Either way, Karkat visibly bristled and widened his stance, like he was a hair's breadth away from pouncing.

The figure's shoulders shook slightly from muted laughter. They mimed blowing a kiss at Karkat.

Then all the lights went out with a violent fizzle, and a loud pop.

"Oh for the love of FUCKING-" Karkat's exclamation, loud as it was, was cut off and drowned out in the subsequent noise. A flurry of footsteps pounded on the hard floor, as well as resulting scuffles as people collided with each other in the pitch blackness. Orders shouted over each other were not heard, and only contributed to the commotion. Several flashlights clicked on and swiveled rapidly. Jake flinched away and covered his eyes when one swept right over his face.

Eventually the people with flashlights focused them on the pedestal in the center of the room, and held their beams still enough that everyone could see what had become of the thief.

Karkat's frustrated groan was more audible as the clamor died down a bit. The thief and the statue were both gone. Within mere seconds they'd vanished without a trace. That… had to be impossible. The statue was solid marble, and it wasn't so big that it couldn't be lifted, but that quickly? And soundlessly?

"Alright, everybody listen the fuck up! I'm only going to say this once, and I'm going to say it at full fucking tilt. We need to set our sorry asses directly into the 'move' gear." Karkat's attention-grabbing clap was weak, but his voice was noticeable enough. The hubbub quieted down accordingly, the group of now-frazzled guards eager to get further instructions on how to deal with this conundrum. Karkat used his own flashlight to illuminate his own face so that it was visible, if a little disconcerting in the dim light. "We already knew the damn lights would go out, no need to shit your pants over it. The backup generators should kick in any second now, which everyone should already know if they listened to even a single word of the debriefing this afternoon." the security manager rubbed at the junction between his creased eyebrows, as though he was trying to smooth them out. Obviously, it didn't work. "It might have looked like he dissipated into thin fucking air, but obviously that's horseshit. In the meantime, we're going to sweep the building. Gather round, I'm going to split you into groups."

As Karkat went into further detail, Jake was bumped aside, then knocked right into. The man mumbled an apology, and Jake moved back more carefully, trying to get out of the way. His hands hit some curtains that framed the wall, and he relaxed, pressing himself against the surface. He suddenly felt extremely out of place.

"And of course the fucking backup generators aren't working. Fan fucking tastic! Does anyone in this building have a working radio?" Karkat called. A low murmur of static crackles and dissent rose from the small group. "What was the fucking point of switching the stupid channels then! God, another wasted week I guess, par for the fucking course. Anyone else want to take a swing at me? I'm wide open!"

Jake picked out his radio from his belt and clicked the button on the side a few times, adjusted the dial...nothing. Not even static from his end. He sighed and clipped it back to his belt, going back to following the wall. Jake and that wall were getting extremely frisky. He trailed his hand along the fabric, and tried his best to not smash his knee into anything expensive or historical. God, he hadn't remembered to bring a flashlight, even though he was certain that no one had instructed him to bring one. Maybe everyone had forgotten he was coming, and neglected to debrief him? Either way he was feeling pretty useless as Karkat directed everyone with a working light source. At this point, he just wanted to find someone nice to point him in the direction of the exit.

"Alright, alright...fucking fine. It's fine! New plan. Everyone disperse in groups of two or three and sweep the building from top to bottom manually. If you run into anyone else from our team you'll have to repeat the plan the old fashioned way. If you run into anyone with a working radio, call me. If that doesn't work, call whoever you can and tell them about the plan. It's on fucking sight with those motherfuckers, okay? Go!" At Karkat's final order, people dispersed. some lingered around the room, searching it first, while everyone else made for the door.

Oh shit, Jake needed to grab someone with a light source, quick, before he got stuck here in the pitch black feeling up the wall forever.

"Jake!" One of the several light sources that were trailing around reached out and grabbed his sleeve, instead. Jake jumped out of his skin with a yelp that was thankfully lost to the dull tremor of footsteps walking around the room. "Shhh, shhh, relax! It's just me!"

The flashlight swiveled upwards and illuminated the face that was attached to the arm. "Good golly...Jade?" Jake asked incredulously. His sister grinned widely, and threw up a peace sign. "What are you doing here Jake? Don't you have a light?"

"For frigs flipping sake, no! I didn't know about this whole blackout business at all. Constarnit, even if I did, I'm not entirely certain I would have remembered to pack one anyway. I was so frazzled this morning. I'd have forgotten to bring my own head here tonight if i wasn't attached to my shoulders."

Jade chuckled and grabbed his hand, leading him through the darkness by the beam of her flashlight. "Your radio is out too, right? So's everyone else's. The line is just dead. No one can connect to anyone. No idea how they did it. We swapped to a closed channel after the last debacle, so it should be inaccessible. They'd have to attack the tower directly or something to short it out like that." She swept her wide beam over the whole room, but it was quickly being vacated by the only other few people that remained. "Aaaand, it looks like the rest of our siblings disappeared, too."

Jake clicked his tongue. "Well, fiddlesticks, Jade. What do we do now that everything's gone ass-upwards?"

"We start making the rounds, of course!" Jade flashed Jake another grin, this time with a tinge of mischievous to it. "We're a group of two now, after all. And who knows, maybe we'll find one of those slippery thieves."

Just as they both exited through the now-wide-open double doors to the atrium, and into the abandoned and pitch-black hallway, a noise cut through their conversation. Jake's radio crackled to life.

\--

Dave was working on managing his breathing. He pulled his hood off and his mask down off his mouth to get some cool air onto his face.

"Are you alright?" Rose asked, surprisingly gentle. She had one hand resting on top of The Whims of A Maiden, and she placed the other on Dave's elbow.

"What? Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Dave breathed in deeply, held it, then breathed out. That seemed to do the trick, and he relaxed his shoulders and leaned back on his palms. "I...I mean, we don't really have a lot of time in the spotlight, you know? And, like, I really wasn't sure about this whole everything-on-the-hook thing in the first place." He laughed, brushing some hair away from where it was sticking to his forehead. "I think it was worth it to see the look on Vantas' face, though. God, I wish you could have seen it."

"Sounds like you had a gay old time, Dave dear. Now put your mask back on. We can only loiter around here for so long."

"Okay fussy-pants." Dave murmured, tucking his hair away again, and pulling his mask back up over his mouth and nose. The breeze up on the roof of the atrium was enough to cool him down instantly, and as soon as the excitement drained out of him, the air would become unbearably chilly. It was cold enough when they scaled the outside of the building the first time.

Dave leaned down and detached the hook from the bottom of his shoe. shit clacked like a motherfucker, and he could only count himself lucky that he didn't crack the marble with it when he landed. Of course, the clear wire that kept him tethered to the small motor that Rose operated from the skylight slowed him down a little, and ensured that he didn't immediately eat shit when he jumped down into the center of the room. He was a little worried that someone would notice the wire, but it seemed like they were all too busy trying to decide whether or not to shoot him rather than deduce his means of descent.

After he discreetly planted the hook in his shoe within a suitable crevice of the statue, he just had to keep it together until AR overloaded the breaker and it flipped off. Then Rose reeled him and the statue back up through the skylight in record time. Now, on the solid roof where the flashlights couldn't reach, they needed to wait just long enough for the group clustered in the atrium to disperse, but not long enough for someone to find the frankly well hidden stairwell up to the roof.

Dave laid back against the concrete of the roof, hands folded behind his head. "So, that was the hard part, right? How long do we wait?"

"Roxy is the one who has the tracking transmitter, shoddy though it may be." Rose said, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders. "We wait for their signal, then with much gusto and grace, carry our lovely maiden down 20 flights of stairs."

Dave clicked his tongue. "I know we already talked about this, but shouldn't we at least try to use the outside of the building? I mean, we have the equipment to get up, we need to be able to get back down somehow."

"It's not the equipment that's the problem, Dave. It's the weight and size of the statue. You'd need at least one hand to work the mechanism that shuffled you down the side of the building. The leaves only one hand left to carry our dear, dear, unwieldy 120 pound maiden, here." Rose patted the head of the statue affectionately.

TG: heyyyy guys  
TG: lookin like you got the girlie all whisked away from her tower, huh?  
TG: i dunno shes looking pretty down i was thinking we could maybe make out with her a bit  
TG: put some strider love in her life you know, cheer her up  
TG: dragons are scary as shit babe dont worry i got you  
TG: lmao well anyway looks like u guys have an opening  
TG: maybe get a little frisky with the dragon too hey who cares some dragons can be sexy  
TG: ik its gonna suck carrying her down all those stairs but im gonna try and keep this transmitter in line so i can back you up, okay?  
TT: We appreciate the assistance, but the presence of our night-vision goggles already puts us at a massive sight advantage.

Rose stood and dusted off her clothes. She held out a hand to help Dave up as well, which he took. He checked over all the garbage on his mask again, making sure that the voice-changer was still in place over the microphone, and that his ear piece hadn't gotten dislodged. Rose did the same. He nodded at her, and crouched to lift up the base of the statue. "We're not going to pull something lifting this, right Rose?"

"Your concern is noted." She replied, hefting up her end. Dave stumbled a little, but eventually got a good grip. Jeez, when did Rose get so buff? The weight of it wasn't...too bad, but it really wasn't pleasant. Carrying it down the stairs would be an even bigger task. Dave would be so happy once all this was over and they could relax at home. Maybe accompanied by a less stressful party with better, non-alcoholic cake this time.

TG: if my beautiful auto-responder is there as well, how are you doing on your projects? We good to go?  
AR: I'm always here.  
TG: woah  
AR: And to answer your question, yes, you are good to go. Assuming, that is, that you all have your voice equipment set up. Readable text might be the way of the future, but these clowns are stuck with instant vocal radio transmissions.  
AR: The wires have been successfully crossed over here. Mixing up the goons' radio signals as nauseum to cause some general confusion.  
AR: If I were working for Croy I'd have my plush ass fired so fucking fast. Got my little robot hands in all kinds of signal receivers and microwaves. Cosmowaves and femptowaves, basically every kind of wave there is.  
TG: Dirk just sighed really loud  
AR: No need to get jealous, now.

Rose bumped open the door to the roof with her elbow as quietly as she could, ignoring the text chat on her shades completely. "Ready for the steepest stairs?" She asked, voice much more hushed then before now that there was a slight chance they could be overheard by someone inside the building.

"We have to do it sooner or later." Dave stage-whispered back. "Might as well get it the fuck over with."

AR: If you want to be connected to someone specific, ring me up, bro.  
AR: Maybe you're thinking of speaking to someone a little more traveled? Worldly, even? Slip a fine Ulysses into my brassiere and maybe we can arrange something.  
TT: Just connect me to Jake.  
TG: yes please ms operator, if you would be so kind as to connect us all to our little distractions while they make their careful, but slow way down all those stairs  
AR: Well, since you both asked so nicely.

\--

Jake immediately snatched his radio from his belt when it started to crackle on it's own. Jade listened in as well, leaning against Jake's shoulder and watching the radio intently.

Gradually, the radio static merged together into some semblance of a voice, and Jake made out some words. "Ahem...Testing, testing....paging doctor Jake English, are you in, doctor?" The voice still sounded warped and wobbly, but it was distinguishable, at least.

Jake held down the call button gratefully, and replied into the radio. "Oh thank goodness, yes, we're here. What's going on? Are the lines back up?"

"We?" the voice asked, ignoring everything else Jake said. It was coming through the radio clearer, and the static was easing up, but it didn't seem to be getting any less pitched. "Who's there with you, English?"

"Wh-...Well, my sister, but-"

"Which sister?"

"Jade, but sir, can you please tell me how you knew I would answer? I may not be the most brushed up when it comes to gadgetry, but this is a radio channel. Anyone on it could have picked up." Actually, now that Jake was thinking about it, why wasn't anyone else picking up at all? Wouldn't at least some other person be on the line? Talking to Karkat like he had expressly asked when the lines went down?

A chuckle came crackling over the radio. Jake couldn't even glean anything from it due to the way the sounds were being warped over the radio. Oh, and it hit Jake all at once. It wasn't the radio's fault that it sounded like that, it was a voice changer. Oh, no.

"Who are you, exactly?" Jade asked, and she glanced up at Jake once, just to check and see if he also understood what was probably going on.

The voice hummed in thought for a second, and this time Jake was trying to read it. It was definitely a man's voice, and a naturally deep one at that. At least that much came through. It wasn't a particularly thorough voice changer, but Jake supposed that it didn't really need to be. "If you really need something to call me, you can use the name Strider, I suppose. It would be simultaneously the most accurate, and the most nondescript name you could use."

Jade seemed more tense at the confirmation, but Jake only groaned, frustrated. He raked his fingers through his hair. No, he decided that maybe he was more happy when he was not involved in this. "What in god's heavenly hallmark...How did you lot manage to hack my radio?"

"You can't hack a radio, obviously." Strider said in a tone that wass flat, yet still held an air of lightness to it. Amusement, maybe? "Did you all know that your radio channels are closed-circuit? But in a really strange way. It's almost like Vantas was trying to patch the holes in the old system by putting hello-kitty brand hot pink band-aids over it. Its so fucking weird, bro, I've seen it. A real shoots and ladder affair of wires and transmitters. A who's who of what signal goes to where. Gotta give the man credit, it works. But just barely. It's only a few amendments to an old system."

He paused here for a second, thoughtfully, as if picturing the system in his brain "Now, if you want a real closed radio channel, you're going to have to do a hell of a lot more work than that. No one can tune in on accident, so it kind of works. But it only takes 1 radio, and maybe, let's see, a sentient AI that can fuck with the electron transmission to scatter the signals like a bunch of marbles."

Jade scowled down at the radio, eyes narrowing. She could understand that technical gizmo jargon a lot better than Jake could.

"What exactly are you on about, Strider?" Jake asked, unable to penetrate the dense amount of information that was suddenly thrown his way. He couldn't help but think that he'd missed the bus somewhere along in that wordy explanation. While the voice coming over was pretty monotonous and calm, it could in no way disguise the infuriating aloofness of the person behind it.

"What I'm 'on about', is that you now have what is effectively a two-way radio. A walkie-talkie, if we wanted to use a more pedestrian word for it. Two Styrofoam cups attached with the red string of fate. Do you feel the connection, Jake?"

Choosing to ignore that last statement, Jake pursed his lips, the way this bloke was talking was just ripe for the contrary. "I'll have to swap radio's with the next gentleman that I come across, then, chap. You can shoot the shit with him while I wait for the real lines to come back on."

"I'd let you think that for a few more minutes, but I already said why that isn't a possibility for you. If I didn't know better, then I'd think you didn't understand what I just explained a few seconds ago." Strider said, resigned monotone replacing the light teasing once again. "I already said that we were mixing the signals in real-time. You know, the sentient AI part? I wasn't joking. If you trade this radio, we'll just connect it to me again. Go ahead, throw this one away. I'll talk through Jade's radio. Hello, Hello? Can I get Jake English on the phone? Of course I can."

Jake tried to consider the implications of the more simple explanation. It wasn't all that fruitful. "Well, bravo and all for that achievement. Given, of course, that this is what you were endeavoring for this ensnaring result. But cheese and crackers, Strider, what's the doggone point?"

"The point is that I wanted to talk to you, Jake. I think there's a misunderstanding that needs to be sorted out."

\--

AR: Say, Dave.  
TG: thats my name

Dave carefully looked past the text scrolling across his shades, and focused on his feet. It turned out that hauling something very, very heavy down a large flight of stairs was a lot harder than it looked, and he and Rose were still only on the first one. It really was going to be a long night.

AR: You seem to have a general proclivity for wordiness, re: talking people's ears off. Am I correct in this assumption?  
TG: omg youre like one of the family already  
TG: am i talking to rose right now? i cant tell  
AR: All I'm really asking is, how honed is your ability to be a general distraction?  
TG: man i trained for that shit up on nuisance mountain for eons  
TG: beard wild, eyes popped, meditating with my shirt off for some reason  
TG: got it down to a formula at this point  
AR: Excellent.  
AR: I'm going to go ahead and connect you to someone who needs a good dose of distraction. So, heads up I guess.  
TG: wait who

\--

Jane Crocker marched down the hallway with a purpose. Her shoes were hard-sole, and they made definitive noise on the tile floor with every step. She really did not have time for this malarkey. This god blasted rigamarole. She clutched her flashlight tightly as she made her way quickly towards the bottom floor. She was over halfway down, now, as she was only making cursory glances around each floor as she went. She needed to gather more stray guards who were immediately visible with their flashlights. She didn't need to search every corner for a Strider hiding in the dark, anyway. As it was, any stray employees that were making clumsy sweeps of the building without instruction were dead weight. Karkat had given the initial order to sweep, but as long as the thieves were still in the building, and Jane could gather enough people together, she was going to make a radio-free, impromptu squad that could be more thorough.

Jane slowed, then finally stopped by the dimmed elevator. None of these had worked, but for the sake of efficiency, Jane tried the dark buttons just one more time. Nothing, no lights, not the usual whir of the elevator. She turned her flashlight up at the usually-illuminated lights above the door. No dice, she would have to keep using the stairs.

Just as she turned on her heel to seek out the next stairwell, she paused. A faint, white noise trilled from her radio. She pulled it off her hip and examined it while she fell into step again. Yes, there was no mistaking it. Where before, her radio had been completely silent, as though it was dead in the water, it changed to making a faint static noise.

Just as she was about to press the call button to see if the line was back up, a voice warbled out of the speaker. "Janey? You there?"

Jane pressed the button and responded. "Who is this? Please state your name and employee number."

The voice laughed, and it pitched up and down erratically. A voice changer. Jane scowled. A Strider, then. How did they connect to this network? "It is Janey! How are you holding up? Can I call you Janey? Is that allowed?"

"Ms. Crocker would be better, actually."

"So Janey, I know that this probably sucks for you. I mean, like, for real. I feel a little bad. Walking around a dark building at night, trying to navigate by flashlight, It can't be that great"

"What did you all do to the generators?" Just as the thief had ignored her, Jane did the same and cut right to the point. What the hell was this, anyway? Talking to her on her radio after pulling something like this. Was this just a distraction? Maybe it was some kind of psyche-out tactic? But, on the flip-side, Maybe Jane could get some information in return. It didn't hurt to ask at least once.

"Oh, those backup generators you all have piled up outside? We cut the power cords on those during a guard rotation. Don't bother, the power isn't coming back on anytime soon." Jane grumbled under her breath. It wasn't like a few generators were extremely expensive or anything, but it still upset her a little bit that they were destroyed and unusable now. What a waste.

"By the way..." The thief continued. "It was really sweet of you to try and figure out our note. I worked hard on it. You said you really liked puzzles in some of your interviews, so-"

"Were you making fun of me?" Jane hissed through the radio. She descended the next flights of stairs two at a time, the clack of her heels echoing louder in the enclosed walls of the stairwell. "Trying to make me look stupid? It's just a dumb hobby that I have for goodness sake! You didn't need to make me look like a fool for it on television."

"What? No, Janey, I didn't mean- I just thought it would make things more interesting for you this time around. You said you liked them, so I just thought it would get you to loosen up those bones a little bit, you know? Have some fun with it."

"Fun? Ugh, I really should have seen this coming. Of course you all think it's one big game, how could I have ever thought any different?"

"That's not it at all! We are really serious about all this. The note was just trying to inject a little fun into it on your side. Like...an olive branch, with a little puzzle on it?" They let out a nervous chuckle, maybe hoping that this joke would slow down Jane's barrage.

Jane hit the landing and swiveled on her heel. She was picking up the pace of her walking the more frustrated she got, and she might as well have been jogging at this point. "Why? What is the point? Why try and get on my good side? Why contact me right now, at all? You're all so intent on terrorizing our family, so what's the point?"

"Whoa, woah, Jane, calm down. I think you have the wrong idea. We are not trying to pick a fight with you, or destroy you, or anything like that." Even through the warbler, Jane could tell that the Strider's voice sounded harried. Defensive, even? Good, they could stay that way for all she cared.

"You're not out to destroy us, hm? You're only publicly stealing pieces of our property that have immense monetary value, thereby simultaneously de-funding and disgracing us in the eyes of the press."

"That's not the point, Jane. Those pieces don't belong to you, and you know it."

"Even if you were right, which you aren't. It isn't as though we're depriving the world of art. Pieces that you've returned are just going to rot away in some family's attic. The Obsidian Tear is never going to be rented out ever again. These works that you steal are put up on display for the public."

"Only the paying public, you mean."

"Naturally."

"Jane, I connected to you to talk seriously." The Strider's tone grew more dour, perhaps sensing that they were arguing against someone who couldn't be shaken. "The Felt have an iron grip on this city, and it's getting completely out of control. You can't sneeze without being under threat of assassination by English. You and Jakey and the rest have nothing to do with all that crap. You were just born into it, or in your case, married into it. Don't you want to get away from all that nasty business?"

"You're talking about things that you have no idea about, Strider." Jane honest-to-god snarled over the line. "You really think this pointless rebellion will make everything better? Things are this way for a reason. If you really are insistent on toppling the felt, then you're going to see a lot more blood on the streets then there ever was before all this. There's going to be splinters, turf wars, grabs for power. Do you have any contingency plans for my family once you've caused all this? Of course you don't." Jane finally hit the last step and turned to walk into the first floor lobby.

"That's exactly why I wanted to talk. To get everything sorted out."

"You know what will get everything sorted out? Putting an immediate hard stop on what you're doing. Immediate as in, this very instant. Mark my words, If I get my hands on you after this, then it's not just going to be life in the slammer. It'll be much, much worse." Jane shoved her thumb against the volume control, and knocked it all the way down to nothing before the thief could get another word in edgewise.

Some loitering guards, probably stragglers from the entrance and the lower floors above, were eyeing her a bit nervously as she strode forward and clipped the now-useless radio back onto her hip. One spoke up "Ms. Crocker, the generators outside-"

"I know." Jane interrupted, putting up a hand to silence him. "The radio channel is dead as well, and I doubt it will be coming back tonight. Is there anyone else around?"

"There's a few people that I saw patrolling around the outside."

"Go get them. We need all the manpower we can get. We're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way."

\--

Roxy set the microphone down, pulled the headphones off their ears, and slowly leaned back in their chair. A short puff of breath blew some stray bangs out of their eyes. They glanced to their left where Dirk was sitting, legs crossed under the armrests. His own headphones hung partially around his neck, and Jake's voice floated up from them, blending with the white noise that all the other gadgets were producing. Dirk had his eyebrows raised well above his shades. Roxy knew that he was going to say something about that conversation if they didn't.

"Well..." Roxy sighed and slumped down in the chair, bringing their knees up to hug to their chest. "Guess I fucked that up."

\--

"God, the only thing that could go right today is us setting the fucking record for most things gone wrong. Unless I can somehow fuck that up, too. Special runner up prize, a complimentary capsule of cyanide." Karkat grumbled to himself, hitting his own flashlight against his palm. Something in this thing was definitely loose, and it kept shorting out the beam, but he didn't exactly have time to sit down and unscrew everything while the room was pitch dark. the beam popped on again, and he continued down the hall.

The backup generators that they had gotten installed outside in the very likely event of a staged blackout were apparently bust, because they weren't fucking turning on. They might as well have just thrown the heist note directly into a furnace for all the good it did helping them prepare.

Of course, they could have done a wide variety of things to cut the power out, and several of them would keep the building dark until the sun came up. One of the easier ways, Karkat knew, was just to create a power surge and flip the breaker. The building was big, and turning several things on remotely would not be that much of a challenge, and they wouldn't even have to do that many of them, considering his team's extraneous use of the lights. It was an attempt to purge dark corners and hiding places. Karkat was just lucky that he'd mostly memorized the floor plans, and knew where the circuit breaker was. He picked his way down the various halls and down the stairwells, because of course the elevators were out too, and they couldn't just have one long stairwell to connect all the floors. No, too simple. Let's scatter the stairs all around in a different location on each floor to make Karkat's life even more hellish.

The bulb on his flashlight went out again, and Karkat kept walking, shaking the light as he went. Of course, they didn't invest in night vision goggles or anything. The goggles on top of the generators seemed extraneous, and the goggles just seemed silly after the practical installation of backup generators. They all might as well start applying the clown makeup now to match how they were going to sound at the debriefing.

The bulb flickered on, then off again, then with one final smack against his palm, popped on and stayed on. Karkat swung it around the hallway. He couldn't lie, the floor plans of this place were so complicated that he was a little concerned about completely forgetting where he was and getting completely and irrecoverably lost in these hallways. No radio, no lights, just lost forever in this art exhibition space. His bones would be excavated years later, buried under layers of tea bag wrappers and bitten down dumb-dumb sticks that they gave away for free in the lobby. Then they would leave him alone there and figure that it was just some form of performance art.

Karkat's radio crackled noisily, and he startled, launched out of some of the stupidest thoughts he'd ever entertained in his life. After he realized what the noise was, though, he relaxed immensely. Thank god, the radio channel was back up. Maybe they just had an inconvenient lapse at the station or something? Whatever.

Karkat picked up his radio and pressed the button without waiting for a single word from the other end. "Please god, give me some good news. All of you had better not be loitering around doing fuck-all the second I left." Karkat paused a second, rubbing at his temples. No other voice came through the radio, even though the white noise indicated that the channel was back on. "I'm not sure what else can go wrong but just give the powers that be a minute or two, I'm sure they'll think of something." He grumbled under his breath.

"Don't worry Karkles. It'll just be smooth sailing from here on out, I'll make sure of it just for you." The modified voice blew a fake kiss that came across as nothing but static and empty pitch.

Karkat ran an exasperated hand down his face, like he could wipe away the headache coming on. He'd greatly underestimated the powers that be, because that was probably a new record they just set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a bit longer than normal, because, surprisingly, it's way harder write the beginnings of a heist than it is to actually write the heist, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/karcutie/) where i'll be posting lots of art for this fic [like this.](https://www.instagram.com/p/CBg3ACRhxLf/)


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